


Where Evil Hides

by UninhibitedImagination



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/F, Intense, Multi, Mystery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninhibitedImagination/pseuds/UninhibitedImagination
Summary: AU: A blizzard has one of the Nation's largest hospitals on lockdown, but the storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the chaos that's about to unfold inside. With no help coming, the staff and patients of Johns Hopkins Hospital must discover who is behind the mysterious ongoings before it's too late.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 37
Kudos: 105





	1. Frigid Friday

Light snow flutters from the grey skies, gently blanketing the city streets. The sounds of the city are dampened by the insulating weather. The parking lost that sits across the street from Johns Hopkins is nearly empty of cars, quite the odd occurrence for wintery Friday. The typical hustle and bustle of Orleans street is non-existent. It is almost like the city had forgotten to awaken, choosing instead to nestle into the comfort of their warm homes. Even the vagrants who commonly occupy the corners near the hospital are nowhere to be seen. 

A young blonde woman walks towards the hospital, with each step she leaves a gentle foot impression in the thin layer of snow coating the sidewalk. Her long locks peak out from underneath her knitted hat, slight curls drape her shoulders. Her piercingly blue eyes stand out against her alabaster skin. As she turns the corner an ambulance rushes past her, sirens blaring, another day of emergency medicine, another day of blood, tragedy, and tears, another day for her to forget about her failed relationship and lose herself in work. A gust of wind pulls her partially tucked lanyard from her jacket, Dr. Clarke Griffin is being treated to quite the wintery experience. 

The air is bitterly cold, Clarke feels the sting of the air with every breath she takes. The short walk to the hospital feels like miles as the frigid air attacks her exposed skin. She grabs the lapels of her wool jacket and pulls them closer to her face as she tucks her chin deeper into her red wool scarf. She hitches up the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, hurrying her walk. She looks forward to a long shift to distract her from her personal life. She may be terrible at relationships, but she knows she is an excellent doctor. 

It has been a month since Finn was terminated from his residency program, and six weeks since their relationship ended. Clarke knew she rushed into the relationship with Finn. The immense pressure of finishing her fourth year of medical school and matching for residency left her exhausted and Finn’s carefree personality along with his dark shaggy locks, deep brown eyes and sweet smile became a welcomed escape. The stress and constant hours spent with him made the relationship convenient, a way to ease her tension. He was kind and affectionate to her, until they matched for residency with different programs, this is when Clarke began to experience his obsessive side. 

As they began to spend more time apart, Finn would constantly call, text, or visit while she was working. When she wasn’t working he wanted to know where she was, he would show up at the gym to surprise her, walk her home, and stay the night, presuming it was always welcomed and wanted. Clarke ended the relationship the day Finn abandoned his shift at UMD hospital to visit her during her shift at Johns Hopkins. She refused to risk her residency, she knew it was either Finn or her career and her future was far more important than a troubled relationship. She is at peace with ending the relationship but is nonetheless consumed with loneliness at times.

As the doors to the emergency room part, a world of chaos greets Clarke, the hustle and bustle of the emergency room stands in stark contrast to the city outside. The smell of disinfectants, vomit, and blood fill the air. Hot air blasts from heaters in the entry area to the emergency room, Clarke welcomes the warmth as it instantly warms her rosy cheeks. She kicks off the snow clumped on her winter boots before stepping onto the tiled floor.  
An environmental specialist works nearby mopping water from the melting snow on everyone’s shoes, a feat that seems pointless as the clouds do appear to be slowing the snow fall anytime soon. Clarke offers the laborer a kind smile, she knows their job is often thankless.

Halfway through the first year of residency the residents switch to forty-eight-hour swing shifts. They work for forty-eight hours, are off for seventy-two hours and then work another forty-eight hours. While the shift allows them more opportunity to see patients throughout the treatment process, it also limits their sleeping, eating, and general wellbeing. This is Clarke’s third week of forty-eights with three more to go, she’s unsure if she wants them to end. 

There are no residents in sight as she walks through the ER towards the locker room, by this time it is likely the other residents are in the locker room eagerly waiting to pass off their patient charts. Nurses move from patient rooms, checking vitals, answering pages, and addressing patient concerns the best they can. The nurses may be more eager for the replacing residents to take the floor than the residents preparing to leave. She walks into the locker room and is immediately hearing the chirps and directions of the residents ending their shifts. As she unfastens the toggle buttons of her heavy pea coat she listens to the notes being delivered by her fellow residents.

“And this one, Jesus, I think this lady has a death wish. This is the third time within the last few months this lady has been in with a gunshot wound of mysterious origin.” The resident’s frustration and exhaustion are palpable.

The oddly judgmental patient summary draws Clarke from her groggy state, “Wait, what.” 

“Sorry, it’s just this patient will give us no information, when she arrived there was already a patient file for her, but previous report pages are missing all over the place, notes blacked out. This is an odd one, just treat and release, don’t invest any time with her, it seems to be pretty pointless, she’ll be back in a month with another broken bone, or bullet hole.” 

“Damn, Dr. Jaha, that’s rather callous of you. Our job is to treat the patient not judge them for their illness or injury.” 

Dr. Jaha’s white coat complimented his dark skin, his stature was strong, yet welcoming. He had attended Johns Hopkins Medical school with Clarke, they had been friends long before Hopkins, Clarke rarely referred to him in such a formal manner. He valued her opinion of him, there was a time when he thought perhaps there could be a future for them but eventually realized that a lifelong friendship was truly where their relationship should remain. Clarke would challenge him to succeed and he was always there to support her. They were a dynamic duo, a friendship many envied. 

“Clarke, come on, I’ve been working for forty-eight hours straight, I can barely see straight, my head is pounding, and this patient has been a pain in my ass, good luck with this her, you’re going to need it.” 

“Get some sleep Wells, and when you come back, just remember there will always be pain in the ass patients, and we need to treat them with respect and dignity, we do not know their past. I know you’re better than this.” 

“I know Clarke, just, you’ll see. Enjoy your forty-eight. I for one cannot wait till these shifts are over, they’re tantamount to torture.” 

“Wells, you’re always so damn dramatic. Let’s grab a drink when these shifts are over.” 

Clarke sits down on the aged bench in the resident locker room and wonders how many residents have come and gone, how many had sat on this bench emotionally exhausted after losing another patient, how many had to change their scrubs after delivering an unexpectedly eager baby. The tv in the locker room drones on as Clarke changes out of her winter boots and into her tennis shoes.

“Last night Prince Ahmed of Saudi Arabi lost consciousness during a concert. The Prince was rushed to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore Maryland for treatment. In sports, the Arizona Cardinals are set to take on the Miami Dolphins this Sunday in Super Bowl fifty-five to determine who will be the next world champions.”

Clarke quickly unties the laces of her boots, slips them off and exchanges them for a pair of comfortable tennis shoes. Clarke’s mother was always one to pass on advice, her best advice was to invest in a good pair of tennis shoes, and to buy multiple pairs. 

“In weather, we don’t really have to tell you, but the snow is coming down with force and it won’t be stopping any time soon. In international news, OPEC, motivated by the new Iran and US agreement, and following the lead of Saudi Arabia, has announced a new agreement to ramp up oil production in an effort to drive down prices and stifle American oil production. Venezuela has spoken out against the OPEC plan as their economy continues to suffer and further price production of their number one export threatens their economic future.”

She retrieves her white coat from her locker and places her duffle bag and wet boots into the locker. As she walks out of the locker room with her iPad, full of patient notes, guiding her to which patients she’ll encounter, she wonders what the day has in store for her. Surely her next forty-eight hours will be busy, little did she know they will also be life changing.


	2. Breathe, Burn, Bleed

Clarke walks towards her first patient’s room, an infant, which are always sensitive cases. A young mother sits in the room with her wailing baby. The mother’s exhaustion is etched across her face. Her brown hair bundled up in a messy bun, dark circles offers the only color to her face. Her shirt stained with baby spit-up. Clarke felt for this woman, she hoped to bring her good news to alleviate the burden this mother must be feeling.

“Good morning Ms. Sanders, I’m Dr. Griffin, you may call me Clarke, I’m going to take a look at little Luke. Tell me what’s going on, what brings you in today?” Clarke knows the answers to her questions, but she wants Ms. Sanders to feel heard, to be able to share her concerns. Respiratory illness ran rampant in the winter and it appears another little one has become its victim. 

“Dr. he’s just so sick, and I feel like I have failed to protect him. He’s coughing non-stop, he’s not wanting to eat, he barely slept all night and woke up with a fever. I’m just so worried, he’s my everything, I just need him to be okay. Please help my baby.”

Clarke pays close attention to Ms. Sanders words as she physically examines Luke. She sees his breathing is labored and can feel that his temperature is elevated. This little one is certainly sick. Clarke listens to the infant’s lungs, hoping she wouldn’t hear the congested wheezing, a key indicator of a respiratory illness; unfortunately, her hopes would not be realized. After listening to the struggled breathing of the fluid filled lungs and reading the reported temperatures on the chart, she orders a chest x-ray to confirm the diagnosis.

“Ms. Sanders, your son’s lungs are filled with fluid. I’m going to order a chest x-ray just so we know what we are up against and I’m also going to be admitting him, I’ll have a nurse come in shortly to start some antibiotics. We’ll be moving Luke to the children’s wing, he will be in isolation as these respiratory viruses are highly contagious. The floor nurses will show you the protocol. They are fantastic up there, you and Luke will be treated with the utmost care. They’ll move you within the hour. If you need anything or have any questions, please have the nurses page me. Do you have any questions now?”

A gentle head shake was the only response she received. Clarke could see the tears filling the young woman’s eyes, she had seen this countless times, parents never responded well to their children being ill.

“Ms. Sanders, I just want you to know this is not your fault. RSV is highly contagious and very prevalent during the winter months. You did the right thing by getting him here right away. We will take care of Luke.” She knows her words will not soothe the distraught mother’s fears but hopefully it will help her not blame herself. Clarke offers a gentle smile as she leaves the patient room.

Clarke walks to the next patient room, reading the chart while she walks. As she reads the next chart she couldn’t help but roll her eyes and then scold herself for judging the patient. New Year’s had been over a month ago, she thought by now the firework related injuries would reduce until just before Independence Day. To be fair the number of firework related injuries has been far less than the twenty she had on New Year’s Eve night. This time it was a sixteen-year-old boy who decided to have a shooting contest with a Roman Candle. The chart indicated he has several burns on his back and hands. 

As she continues to read the patient’s stats her gaze catches the sight of a poised woman in curtain three. She is sitting there, with a fairly expressionless face staring across the hospital, holding a cloth to her arm with blood seeping through. While Clarke stands a considerable distance away, she cannot help but feel drawn to the intense stare.

“I cannot believe you are this fucking stupid. How many times have I told you to not just do whatever your dumbass friends are doing? I’m telling you here and now you little asshole, I will not take any more of these shenanigans. I’m fucking done with this shit.”

Clarke is pulled away from her awkward staring by the sounds of a boisterous voice. She walks into room fifteen to see a large man, standing over a small framed boy. The boy has recoiled as the man raises his hand, before she could think Clarke positions herself between the man and the boy, the top of her head barely reaching the man’s shoulders but nonetheless her presence stops him in his tracks.

“Excuse me sir, but I’m going to need you to leave the room.”

“The hell I will, I don’t know who you think you are, but this is my fucking idiot of a son and I ain’t going nowhere.”

“Sir, I will not have my patients subjected to nor threatened with physical violence, so I’m going to ask you again to please leave this room or I will have you escorted out. The choice is yours.”

“What the fuck. Seriously who the fuck are you. I’m not going to let some nurse tell me how I will treat my fucking son.”

With an overly assertive push the man shoves his way around Clarke and reaches his arm back to continue the tormenting of his son. With a quick motion Clarke secures the man’s arm twisting it into a precarious position and slamming him to the floor taking with them a hospital tray and empty IV pole. The sound of the crashing supplies brings people running. From orderlies, to nurses, to her attending physician, she is quickly surrounded by surprised individuals, surely, they did not often see a five foot five, hundred and forty-pound woman maintaining a position of dominance over a six foot six, two hundred and eighty-five-pound man.

“Dr. Griffin, may I ask why you have accosted this man?” With a presumptuous tone Clarke’s attending physician, Dr. Nguyen, questions her actions.

Without letting go of the burly and clearly embarrassed man Clarke explains her reasoning in an even and conclusory tone. “Mr. Moore decided it was a good idea to beat his injured son, I advised him against such actions and he elected to ignore my advice, so I elected to protect my patient.” She knew she had done the right thing and she would not have her motives questioned. 

Clarke releases the man’s arm and returns to her feet, now free, the man stands awkwardly rubbing his shoulder, “Call the police, I’m pressing charges against this woman, she assaulted me.”

“We will certainly be calling the police. We will be reporting an incident of child abuse and the proper term is a battery sir, not an assault. And I’m sure the police will deem Dr. Griffin’s actions justified as self-defense on behalf of a third party.” Marcus Kane appears from nowhere, his authoritative tone quickly calms the situation. Clarke is grateful to have a hospital administrator who supports his physicians.

“This is fucking ridiculous. My son and I are leaving, what a fucking joke of a hospital.”

“Sir, respectfully, you will not be leaving with your son. We have admitted him, he will be taken to the burn unit shortly. For now, you will be escorted to a room to wait for an officer with the Baltimore City police.” 

“You’ve got to fucking kidding me, I’m assaulted and you’re detaining me. Are you fucking out of your mind, or are all you women fucking menstruating, men hating lesbians? And you, did they fucking cut your balls off to make you cave to their demands? What the fuck?” 

“Sir, I’m sure there are other charges the hospital can press if you choose to remain uncooperative.” If there is one thing Kane will not tolerate it’s aggression towards his staff, he will not allow this hospital to be a hostile place.

Realizing he had lost the battle Mr. Moore turned around and allowed himself to be escorted out of the patient room, “This is not over mother fuckers, I will be back, I will be taking my son home and all of you sons a bitches will fucking pay.”

“We will contact the boy’s mother regarding his medical needs. We wish you the best sir, and if you decide to enroll in anger management classes and sensitivity counseling, the hospital offers both of those services, which your insurance will cover” Kane’s diplomatic response to the outlandish threat was impressive. No matter how unruly situations became, Kane always maintained a diplomatic presence. 

With Mr. Moore removed from the room Clarke turned her attention back to the young man, who is now visibly upset. 

“Hi Skylar, I’m Dr. Griffin, you can call me Clarke, is it okay with you if I examine you or would you prefer a different doctor?” Clarke knows she may have lost the patient’s trust and wants him to know that his autonomy is respected by her. 

“It’s okay for you to do the exam. I promise my dad’s never hit me before, he threatens and he raises his hand but he’s always stopped before he’s made contact. He’s just so angry since my mom left, plus stuffs not right at work and he’s, he’s just angry all the time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Skylar, changes in life can be very hard to accept. I truly hope he accepts the help Mr. Kane has offered to him; counseling can be helpful.” Clarke wants Skylar to feel heard, she also wants him to know, that even if the violence never escalated to contact, it was not okay. 

Clarke examines the burns to Skylar’s back and neck, the majority are minor first degree burns; however, there are a couple of second degree burns. Clarke notes in Skylar’s chart the location and severity of each burn. 

“Okay Skylar let’s take a look at your hands.”

Skylar sheepishly reveals his hands to Clarke, the burns on his left hand are once again minor and require only cleaning and burn ointment, the burns on his right hand are a much different story. He has a sever burn on his hand and palm in the area between his thumb and index finger. This burn is most certainly a third degree burn and will require debridement and potentially a skin graft. The decided course of treatment for this burn is for the burn unit to decide. Clarke further notes in Skylar’s chart the severity and location of the burn.

“Clarke, am I going to lose my hand? I have state for wrestling in a month and I have to win, my dad will never forgive me if I lose, I just have to win. I was the first sophomore in the history of my school to win state last year, if I don’t repeat as a junior my dad, he’ll, he’ll go crazy. If I can bring this win home, well, maybe then he’ll stop being so angry all the time.”

Clarke lets out a soft chuckle before responding, “Skylar you’re not going to lose your hand. The burn is bad, I won’t lie to you and the recovery, well it’s going to suck, but you’ll keep your hand. As to wrestling, that is a decision for the burn care physician. Set your goal and follow their instructions to the letter, that’s the best way to work towards your recovery.”

“Thanks Clarke, I’m sorry about my dad, he wasn’t always this way. We used to have season tickets to the Orioles, went to every game. He was the greatest dad in the world, really, he’s the only parent I have, my mom wants nothing to do with me ever since she got a new boyfriend. One day I know he’ll be the same great dad again; I just have to show him I’m worth it.”

Clarke scans Skylar’s face, he has been through far too much at such a young age, “Skylar, you do not need to apologize for your dad, we all have our demons how we choose to handle them will determine how successful we are in life. His actions, his anger neither are your responsibility. Nurse Paige will take you to the burn unit now, I’ll call your mom can you verify the phone number we have on file?”

Skylar reviews the information on Clarke’s iPad and nods his head in confirmation. Clarke passes Skylar off to Nurse Paige from the burn unit as there was no further need to provide treatment in the emergency room as he clearly needed burn treatment. 

After collecting herself Clarke looks at the next patient file, she was only an hour and a half into her shift and is already tiring of the drama she’s encountered.

Her next patient is waiting in curtain three. As she skims the file she finds large amounts of information had been redacted from the medical file. Admittedly Clarke has only been a resident for a short time, but she has never encountered a medical file with redacted information, to properly treat a patient it is critical for her to have a complete medical history, how is she to do that when the majority of the history is blackened out. Previous injuries gone, medications gone, allergies gone, all personal information gone, Clarke only knows the patient’s current injury, blood pressure, weight, and first name. This may very well be the oddest patient file she has ever seen, even in practice cases in medical school she was supplied with more information. She’s starting to understand why Wells had been so frustrated.

“Good morning, uh, Lexa. I’m Dr. Griffin, you can call me Clarke, I apologize for your wait, let’s take a look at your injury.” From the moment she had walked past curtain three at the beginning of her shift, she has felt pulled towards this patient, and now, looking into those piercing green eyes she feels uneasy. 

“No need to apologize doctor, I’ve never experienced such an exciting show while waiting to see a doctor. I must say you handle yourself quite well. I thought about going over there to provide assistance but then you just, handled it.”

Clarke’s cheeks blush at the unsolicited compliment. “Well, I’m glad we could make your wait a bit more entertaining.” Lexa removes the cloth from her arm, staring into Clarke’s eyes. Clarke examines the wound, trying to not be distracted by Lexa’s gaze. As she examines the wound she can see it is a through and through bullet wound by a small caliber handgun, luckily the bullet caused very little damage to the patient’s arm. 

“Lexa, a few inches to the right this bullet would have hit you in the chest, possibly your heart, how did you come by this injury?” Clarke tries to fill in the gaps in the medical record. She notices bruises on the woman’s arm, and legs thanks to the short hospital gown cloaking her. It’s obvious to Clarke that this woman is encountering some form of violence in her life. She is left asking herself if she needs to intervene to protect this woman.

Lexa shifts her gaze from Clarke’s bright blue eyes to her white coat, “I appreciate your concern Doctor Griffin, honestly my line of work gets a bit… hectic is all, I’m sure you understand that considering what just happened across the way.”

Clarke knows the patient is hiding something and she knows she had to do something, even if it is only a temporary fix. “Lexa I’m going to clean your wound and stitch it up, but I am concerned about infection and nerve damage as it appears it’s been a while since the time the injury occurred, and treatment was rendered. Because of this risk I am going to admit you for observation.” There was no real risk of infection and no nerve damage, but Clarke wants additional time with the patient, she needs to make sure there is no risk to her safety. 

“I appreciate your concern and if the first doctor treated me rather than try to fill in the blanks on some form so much time would not have passed, but I’m fine, just stitch up this hole in my arm and I’ll be on my way.”

“If you’d like to refuse the treatment plan I offer, I can get another doctor to treat you.”

“Doctor Griffin, you are certainly a person who likes to have things her way. You win this one, treat my wound and I’ll stick around for a while. I just ask you allow me to stay here. I have no desire to deal with other doctors and nurses, and the entertainment value is much better here.”

“I won’t admit you, you can stay here, but you stay for my entire shift rather than just a night.”

“How long is your shift?”

“I have about 46 hours remaining.”

Lexa nods in agreement as Clarke continues to tend to the wound. Her hands are gentle and skilled as she cleans and stitches the wound. Injecting a round of antibiotics into Lexa’s IV, Clarke states she will check on her after she finishes with her remaining patients.

As Clarke exists Lexa’s room, Officer Blake from the Baltimore City Police calls out to her, “Clarke, I hear you’re aiming to join the force next, what is being a doctor not enough for you anymore?”

Standing in the hallway is a stunningly beautiful woman with long dark locks and greyish green eyes. Her uniform accentuates her athletic build. Clarke has always admired Octavia’s dedication to her physical training.

“O, what are you doing here?”

“Well Clarke, I’m here to arrest one Richard Moore, apparently you tossed him around a bit.” 

“I mean there was, technically, a toss. I’ll take you to him. How’s your day going?”

“Dude, it’s been crazy, they’ve had me running all over the city picking up the homeless and getting them to shelters. Though when it comes to Baltimore, spending the day helping people find much needed shelter is far better than responding to one shooting after another.”

“I had noticed the usual groups on the corner were missing on my walk in today. Anyways, he’s in there, I probably shouldn’t go in with you, he’s not really a fan of mine, I believe Kane is in there with him though. Let’s grab lunch sometime this week and catch up.”

“You know it and uh, ya know, if you’d like to invite Lincoln to join us, I wouldn’t be angry.” Octavia gives Clarke a slight wink as she turns to enter the room where Richard Moore and Kane await her. 

“Officer Blake so nice to see you, though I wish it were for a better reason, Mr. Moore, Officer Blake is here for you.” 

“Nice to see you as well Kane. Mr. Moore you’re under arrest for child endangerment, attempted child abuse, and interfering with medical treatment. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed to you.” Officer Blake asserted herself with confidence as she read Mr. Moore his rights. 

“Another fucking dike! Do no real men work in this city anymore; fucking women taking over everything.”

“Sir, I’ll gladly add resisting arrest to the list of charges if you’d like.” Officer Blake heard these kinds of accusations far too often and her patience for them has worn far too thin.

Richard Moore was certainly not use to women standing up to him, his imposing stature typically intimidated women. First his wife left him, then he was passed over for a promotion so some affirmative action woman could be promoted instead, then he’s embarrassed by some incompetent nurse, and now another pc hire woman is here arresting him for some trumped up charges. He knows arguing further will only result in more bullshit charges so he stands and allows himself to be handcuffed and escorted out of the hospital; he’ll settle this score, eventually. Moore leers as he and Octavia walk past Clarke hustling around the emergency room but what he doesn’t see in the patient in room three watching him like a lioness stalking her prey. 

For the next six hours Lexa watches Clarke rush from one patient to the next. She witnesses how Clarke is compassionate and invests in each patient she treats, whereas many of the other doctors spend only a few minutes with a patient aiming only to diagnose and move on. Lexa finds herself intrigued by Clarke wondering what motivates her to do more than all the others, to spend more time with her patients, to invest a piece of herself with each one. 

Shadows shifted as time goes by. Patients come and go as Lexa keeps her word and sits waiting for Clarke’s shift to end. By four pm Lexa finds herself wondering where Clarke had ventured off to, it has been at least two hours since she last saw her running about the emergency room. 

“Lexa, how are you feeling?” Clarke appears from out of nowhere, carrying two cups of coffee with her. “How’s your pain? Are you terribly bored yet? Hope you like your coffee black.” Clarke’s questions come faster than Lexa can respond.

“I’m feeling fine, I have no pain, my arm is fine, you did great work Doctor Griffin. I’m only bored when you disappear and I have no one interesting to watch. And black is perfect.”

“Call me Clarke, Doctor Griffin reminds makes me feel like my mother. We are experiencing an odd slowdown in patients right now so I thought I would come and check in on you, add a little morphine to your IV, and bring you a cup of coffee.”

“Thank you Clarke. I’m really not in any pain.” Clarke gives Lexa a knowing look, she is going to get the pain medication rather she likes it or not, as there is no way she is not in pain. “Clarke, are you trying to keep me medicated in order to get information out of me, people have tired that before it doesn’t work.” Lexa offers with a sly smile.

“Umm, no I’m interested in keeping your pain at bay so you can function. Now, why would people be drugging you to get information from you, are you a spy or something?” Clarke smirks at her joke, Lexa’s expression turns a bit stoic. 

Clarke feels that all too familiar vibration on her hip, not again. “Excuse me Lexa” Clarke pulls a small pager from her waistband; pediatrics is paging her. “I need to go check on a patient, I’ll stop by soon, and sooner than this time, I promise.”

With a flash of blonde hair Clarke is gone, racing once again to help another patient. 

“Dr. Griffin quick, it’s Luke Sanders.”

“The infant with an RSV? What’s going on, has his pediatrician made it in to see him?” Clarke inquired about the patient she saw only hours earlier.

“Yes doctor. His oxygen stats are dropping and we cannot reach the attending. The mother is panicking and insisted we page you.”

Clarke rushes to Luke’s room, slowing to calm herself just outside the door. “Hey little man, I hear you’re not feeling so well.” Clarke looks at Luke’s mother she truly is a nervous wreck. Luke’s oxygen stats are certainly lower than they like to see, his are in the low nineties and his wheezing has become more apparent. 

“Gina, let’s put an infant oxygen mask on him, put the oxygen level at hundred percent. Page the pulmonologist as well, I don’t care if he is in the middle of a business dinner, get him in here immediately. If he is not here in thirty minutes I want to know, and I will get Kane to drag him in here. In the meantime, get the breathing therapist in here and have her do a breathing treatment.” Clarke’s seriousness is not to be mistaken. 

Clarke spent the next ten minutes comforting Luke’s mother, reassuring her Luke will be okay, he will recover, and she will be taking him home in a few days. 

“Dr. Griffin, Dr. Tolfkosky is on his way in, he should be here in about three minutes or so.” 

“Thank you Gina. Mrs. Sanders, I need to go back to the E.R. to check on additional patients. Dr. Tolfkosky is fantastic, he will take great care of you and Luke, if you need anything else, again, just have the nurses page me and I’ll be here.”

Mrs. Sanders thanks Clarke as she wipes the tears from her eyes. “I’ll come back and check on you two before I leave.” She acknowledges Clarke’s statement with a simple nod and turns her gaze back to her ill son.


	3. Trapped

Wells parks his jeep in the parking garage across the street. He cannot believe he is back here already, but who knows what kind of chaos the storm may bring and how understaffed the hospital might be, his obligation, as a doctor, and as a resident was to the people of Baltimore. As he walks towards the sky bridge linking the parking garage to the hospital, he sees a body lying on the ground lightly covered in snow. 

“Officer Blake?” Wells shouts as he ran towards the woman lying on the ground. “Octavia?” Wells gently rolls her over, discovering a large gash across her forehead, he has already found his first patient of the evening. After checking for any additional injuries, he picks up the unconscious woman and proceeds to carry her towards the hospital. Thankfully the emergency room isn’t too far from the parking garage. 

There is no doubt, things are about to get interesting. 

As Clarke walks her way through the newly designed pediatric wing, back towards the emergency department she once again feels a vibration on her hip. She retrieves the pager from the waistband of her scrubs, nearly dreading what news the vibration will bring. A page to the lecture center in the medical school, this is unusual.

Clarke changes her direction and begins walking towards the medical school. She notices she is not the only one walking in the direction of the lecture center. Hushed voices discuss what the mass page will be about, why is everyone being gathered, it seems that all attendings and residents are being paged to the lecture center.

The ever-growing crowd step out of the Outpatient Center into the blistering cold wintery weather, they huddle rather close as they walk the short distance to the medical school. For ten minutes people continue to enter the lecture hall, seats become rarer to find, residents and attendings from every department in the hospital file into the, now seemingly small, lecture hall. 

Kane stands steadfastly at the front of the lecture hall. Once no one had entered the hall for a few minutes he begins to address the mass of confused medical professionals. 

“Everyone I’m sure you’re all wondering why we brought you here today. As I’m sure you’re all aware a large storm has been approaching, the initial predictions indicated the snow would begin around mid-night and would last the next few days. The storm has picked up energy, the snow accumulation began two hours ago, and we already have three to four inches on the ground. Because of this the city has issued an emergency storm proclamation. We have posted shift lists on the back wall. Several of you will be leaving immediately, we need you to get home to your families, get some rest and be ready to replace all of us staying in a couple of days. The rest of you, the majority of us, will be staying and rotating shifts in the hospital. It is predicted we will be snowed in for a couple of days, at least. What I need you all to do now is check the lists, see if you are staying or going home, if you are slotted to leave get out of here immediately, those of us staying will make sure patient charts are passed accordingly. Those working in the emergency room, I need you to go release any patients you can as soon as possible. In about an hour the roads will certainly be impassable and everyone still here, will be here for a few days, try to spare your patients this experience if it can be avoided. If you have any questions, please find me after you verify your status.”

There is no need for Clarke to check the list, she knows she will be one of the many staying at the hospital; however, she follows protocol and verifies her assumption. Learning of the impending lockdown, she rushes back to the emergency room to do as Kane had requested and begin treating and releasing as many patients as possible, in an hour, she knows she will need to begin with Lexa.

Clarke walks quickly from the medical school back to the outpatient center, after dragging her shoes along the rugs inside the door to ensure they are dry she sprints back towards the emergency room, wondering the entire way why Kane did not hold this meeting in an area a bit more central. 

She reaches Lexa’s exam room and stops for a brief moment to catch her breath.

“Hey Lexa, I’m going to go ahead and release you. I’ll write you a prescription for some pain medication and antibiotics just to be safe. You’ll want to head out right away, there is a blizzard and in about an hour the roads will be impassable. Do you have any questions?”

“Clarke, you seem frazzled, all day I have seen you manage complicated cases and even take down a man twice your size, never once seeming to be distracted by it, but a little snowstorm and you’re all concerned?”

“Sorry Lexa, I do not mean to seem panicked. I, as well as others, have been assigned to treat and release as many patients as possible before the roads shut down. We would like to not have a bunch of people trapped waiting for the next several days to go home.”

“Well then Clarke get to work. I can wait, there are worse things in life than being stuck here with you for a couple of days. I’ll get the next round of coffee; I’m betting you’ll need it. Make sure you use this bed if you need it, I don’t need it.” Lexa stands up and rips the IV line from her arm, she quickly grabs a piece of gauze and presses it to the spot where her IV line once was. “I’m good Clarke, get to work.” Lexa winked and walked towards the cafeteria. 

Clarke stares in the direction Lexa ventured off in, she’s not sure what she had just witnessed but she is sure Wells had been right when he warned her about this particular patient earlier in the day. With the constant reminder that time is not on her side, Clarke quickly went back to work. 

When she arrived in the emergency room forty-five minutes ago there were twenty-five patients in assigned beds waiting to be treated, admitted or released, and another eighteen waiting to be seen. At the end of the forty-minutes the swift working team of doctors and nurses had admitted ten patients and treated and released all of the remaining patients. The emergency room is now eerily empty, in the five years Clarke has been at Johns Hopkins, she has never seen the emergency department empty. 

Clarke walks back to patient room three to see if Lexa has returned from her venture for coffee. 

“Clarke you are certainly efficient.” Lexa smirks, handing Clarke a hot cup of coffee as she walks into the patient room. 

Clarke leans against the entry way to the room as Lexa takes a seat on the exam room bed. 

“Thank you, Lexa, you still have time to get home, you should go.” Clarke wants Lexa to stay, she wants to find out more about the patient with the redacted file and the woman with dazzling green eyes, but her job is to treat and release today.

“Good evening Clarke, is this the last patient?” Kane inquires as he walks through the now empty emergency room, stopping just outside the room.

“Yes sir. I… she is essentially released, she requested we prioritize all the other patient’s before getting to her. She was treated for a gunshot wound, completed a couple rounds of IV antibiotics and pain medication, and provided her with a prescription for the same. She is able to go now Kane.” Clarke spouts off far more information than needed.

“Ah, I see.” Kane peaks his head into the room, “Well ma’am I’m sorry to say the city has officially closed the roads and the weather is too powerful to walk in, it looks like you’ll be spending the next few days here. We will have your prescriptions filled at our pharmacy and find you an empty room. This will all be provided to you at no cost. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may cause…” before Kane finishes, he is interrupted by the head of hospital security calling from down the hall. 

“Kane, my apologies but I need to see you immediately.” Indra is never one to offer cordial greetings as her focus is always on the task at hand.

Indra hurries Kane towards a conference room just outside the emergency department, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone in the now empty emergency room. Indra enters the small conference room, though still daytime outside and several windows in the conference room, the room remains darkened, there will be no outside light provided during the storm. After checking the hallway for lingering ears, Indra flips the light switch on and motions for Kane to sit. 

“Kane, we have a small issue, Prince Ahmed is still here, the helicopter did not arrive in time to escort him to the hospital in Washington D.C. He is without his personal protection services; he also does not have diplomatic protection services.”

“Okay. Who on your team remains in the hospital? How many people are aware the Prince is here? Is there a medical file with his name on it in the system or was he entered in with a code name?”

“I sent most of my team home. There are so few patients, and with the emergency department closed I did not see the point of keeping a large force on staff during the storm. I have myself, Lincoln, and Harper. The media reported about the Prince’s collapse at the concert last night and that he was sent here for treatment, it is pretty fair to say the world knows he’s here. As with all high priority patients a code name was used, but I’m not sure it does much considering the media announcement.”

“I’m not concerned with your staffing amount; all are more than capable of protecting the patients and staff of this hospital. On the plus side, I know Dr. Tolfkosky is in the hospital, he treated Prince Ahmed last night, I’ll make sure he remains available to the Prince, and to answer any questions that may come in from the Saudi Arabian embassy. We certainly want them to know we are providing the Prince with the best care available. Are there any other concerns I should be aware of at this time?”

“Nothing else sir. Just wanted to relay this information as I was certain it would be of importance to you.”

“Thank you, Indra. Recruiting you as Hopkins head of security remains to be one of my greatest accomplishments as an administrator.”

Indra only nods to Kane’s compliment, perhaps it is her training as a Marine, perhaps her training as a Special Forces Marine, or perhaps she was never a person to need flattery to know she is doing a quality job. For her, success is always measured through her own personal knowledge of her excellence when compared to others, it is never about how others viewed her excellence. As she exits the conference room, she flips off the light switch, leaving Kane standing in the dark. Kane can only shake his head as he walks out of the room, he knew hiring former Marines for his security team would create an interesting dynamic of energy, but he always remained surprised by their overzealous commitment to the job, of course when it came to the safety of his patients and staff, there is no better option than Indra and Lincoln. 

Clarke watches as Indra disappears as quickly as she had appeared, well that was odd, she thinks to herself.

In the distance the elevator chimes as it reaches the emergency room floor, Wells shifts the weight of the woman in his arms and exits the elevator. The hallways are empty, filled with only an eerie silence, he’s never experienced the hospital like this, even at three in the morning there are people shuffling about, murmurs and the sounds of beeping machines echoing in the halls, but now the silence is deafening. 

Not wanting to jostle the injured woman he slowly walks towards the patient area in the emergency room, as he turns the corner he calls out, “Help, I need a gurney, I have an injured patient. Is anyone here?”

Clarke is startled by the sound of the yelling voice, she had verified the emergency room was empty and the concerned voice sounds familiar, but she knows Wells left, is she losing her mind. She looks over to Lexa, her reaction indicates she also heard the voice. Clarke runs into the room to grab the bed before she can reach to unlock the breaks, Lexa has already flipped the locks. Offering Lexa an appreciative smile, Clarke pulls the bed back and maneuvers it out of the room pushing it in the direction of the elevators.

“Wells? What happened to Octavia? Why are you even here?”

“It’s nice to see you too Clarke. I found her in the parking garage, I thought I should come back when I saw the weather report, and Octavia was just lying in on the ground in the parking garage.” Wells gently lays Octavia on the bed as he explains things to Clarke. His shirt is stained with blood, sweat pools at his temples, concern etched across his face, “Clarke, do you know why she was here? Her gun is missing.”

Clarke looks to the holster at Octavia’s waist, the strap s unbuttoned, her firearm missing. “Wells, was there anyone else in the parking garage? Was her patrol car there?” Clarke continues her questioning of Wells as she checks Octavia’s pupil response. 

“Her car is there, the backseat door was open, but no one else was there.” Wells offers all he remembers as he cleans Octavia’s head wound.

“This is a pretty nasty laceration, has she spoken at all.” Clarke’s worried about the effects of the force that hit Octavia in the head, beyond the gapping cut on her forehead. 

“No, but I have no idea how long she has been unconscious.” Wells wishes he had the answers as he knows more information will help them properly assess Octavia, to allow them to provide the proper course of treatment. 

Clarke retrieves a suture kit from the trauma room as Wells injects numbing medication into the area surrounding the cut. “Wells, hand me a 4.0 nylon on a P3?” Clarke requests the suturing set up from Wells as she gloves up, she’ll suture Octavia, as she knows her sutures are neater and cleaner than Wells’s. 

“Clarke, the PS2 is recommended for skin closures, are you sure you want the P3?” Clarke rolls her eyes in frustration; this is exactly why she will be suturing Octavia’s forehead.

“I’m sure I want the P3 Wells. I would like Octavia to not look like Frankenstein’s monster in three weeks when the sutures have been removed and the skin is healing. This is her face we are talking about; I will use the smaller needle and take my time to assure she has next to no scar when this has healed. Would you like to second guess me any further?” Without a word Wells hands the requested suture set-up to Clarke, he knows her question is merely rhetorical. 

With delicate finesse Clarke laces the needle through the tender flesh, tugging the skin closed, knotting the stitch, clipping the suture, and starting on the next stitch. Twelve stitches and twenty minutes later Clarke has finished suturing Octavia’s head, it is only once she has finished that she notices Lexa is no longer in the emergency room, perhaps Kane had found her a room. 

“Wells, she has been out for a while, let’s see if we can get her to awake up, hand me an ammonia inhalant, and be prepared to duck because if this wakes her up, she may come out punching.” Clarke jokes though she knows Octavia is going to be furious when she wakes up this combined with a bit of confusion from what happened will likely be a hazardous combination. She snaps open the ammonia inhalant and instantly regrets doing it so close to her own face, the smell is truly awful. 

Reaching out Clarke waves the inhalant a slight distance from Octavia’s nose, the reaction is instantaneous as small wrinkles grace Octavia’s forehead, tugging at the newly tied sutures. “Oh my God, what is that smell, where did the cat pee now? Fuck my head is pounding, did I drink that much last night? Oh shit, did I take that guy home? Where am I?” Octavia brings her hand to her head as she tries to establish her bearings, Wells reaches out and stops her from applying pressure to the injury. 

“Octavia, Wells found you in the parking garage with a large cut on your forehead, do you remember what happened?” The last time Clarke saw Octavia she arrested Richard Moore and was escorting him out of the hospital, and now she is injured, and her service weapon is missing. 

“Clarke, I honestly have no idea. I remember accompanying a DUI in this morning and while I was here, I placed another guy under arrest, but I don’t really remember anything after that.” 

“Your gun is gone Octavia; do you remember if you took Mr. Moore to the precinct?” A terrified Clarke asks.

“What!?!” Octavia shoots upright searching her hip for her firearm only to find her empty holster and her head spinning. “Clarke, I don’t know if I made it to the precinct, I don’t know what happened with the guy I arrested. Clarke, where’s my radio, did you guys take it? I need to radio in to the station, I need to put out an APB on this guy, fuck, I’m screwed, how could I let some guy get my gun, I had him cuffed, I was putting him in the back of my car and everything went black. Shit.” Clarke feels her stomach drop as Octavia’s memory returns. 

“Octavia, I don’t know where your radio is, I picked you up and brought you here, there was nothing else on the ground around you and we didn’t take anything off of you. Clarke, we need to tell Indra, she’s here right? She’s going to flip about this.” Wells comments do nothing to alleviate Octavia’s guilt nor concern. 

“Thank you for that Wells.” Clarke responds while giving him a look that could kill. Octavia had graduated from the academy in the summer and has been trying to live up to her big brother ever since; however, Clarke believes Octavia better appreciates and understands the job than Bellamy ever will. Bellamy was handed the opportunity to promote, was mentored through the academy, he truly was the golden boy, whereas Octavia has to fight for recognition, had to outperform every other candidate just to escape from being referred to as Bellamy’s little sister. “I’ll call Indra, she’ll have to look into this, the roads are closed, there’s no way an officer can get here now.”

“Clarke, what am I going to do? All I wanted was to belong somewhere, I belong with the force, they are going to boot me for this. They always said I was too small, incapable of actually handling myself.” Octavia’s self-depreciation is saddening and completely irrelevant, she’s an amazing officer and the force is lucky to have her. The phone to the security office only rings, Clarke disconnects the line and opts for the old school loudspeaker page, hopefully Indra is in an area with an activate speaker.

“Indra Code Grey in the Emergency Room, Indra Code Grey in the Emergency Room.” Clarke hops Indra’s response to the page is quick as she did not want to be more descriptive over the intercom. Only seconds pass before the phone rings.

“This is Indra, what is the security need in the Emergency Room, I thought there were no more patients there?” 

“Indra this is Clarke; we need you down here now. Officer Blake was attacked in the parking garage and her service weapon is missing.” There’s no response, only a powerful slamming of the phone.

The sound of Indra’s running footsteps causes bile rise up in Octavia’s throat. She’s always admired Indra’s strength and abilities to act under pressure. Octavia met Indra when she accompanied her mother to work one day and has been mentored by her ever since.

Octavia and her brother Bellamy were raised by their single mother who had worked on the maintenance staff at Johns Hopkins. Occasionally Octavia would be forced to join her mother at work, she would hide away in janitorial closets during her mother’s shift, switching to a new closet when her mother moved to cleaning another wing of the hospital. After her mother died of cancer she found herself wandering the halls of the hospital looking for a purpose, was she to remain a nobody hiding behind closed doors, was there anything else in the world for her? It was during one of her random visits that she first met Indra. Indra intercepted Octavia during this particular walk, she believed the young woman must certainly be an addict, scoping out the hospital trying to gain access to some unguarded drugs. 

Octavia explained to Indra why she was really there, and to this day cannot figure out why Indra elected to sit down and talk to her. It was odd how easily she found it to connect with Indra. For months Indra tried to persuade Octavia to join the Marines, to experience all life has to offer by traveling the world and fighting for her country, Octavia was admittedly tempted by the idea. She longed to be seen as more, but she couldn’t leave her brother, not after they had lost their mother. She settled for the police academy as she thought it would offer her a sense of belonging and strength like the military with the convenience of remaining near her brother. She instantly regretted her decision two days into the academy, this is when the trainers had discovered she was the little sister of Bellamy Blake, from that day forward everyone referred to her as Officer Blake’s little sister. 

“Officer Blake do you care to explain to me how a violent man escaped your custody and how you managed to lose your firearm?” Indra awakens Octavia from her reminiscing.

Octavia’s gut sinks, disappointing Indra, her mentor is excruciatingly demoralizing. “Ma’am I don’t remember what happened, I had the suspect handcuffed and had placed him into my patrol car, and I swear I had closed the door. He was there and then everything just went dark. The suspect did not resist or argue when I escorted him out, I made him sit in another room for a while to calm down before escorting him to my patrol car. He seemed to have calmed significantly. I don’t understand what happened.” Frustration etches across Octavia’s face as she tries to remember and explain how she lost control.

Indra hates being harsh to Octavia, but her concern is too focused on the safety of the patients and staff of the hospital to be understanding in this moment. “Octavia, I acknowledge your frustrations but right now my only concern is on finding out what happened to your gun. If the hospital wasn’t already on lock down, it would be now.” Indra turned from Octavia storming out of the emergency room marching towards the security office. “Lincoln, Harper meet me at the office, we may have an armed individual in the hospital.”

Indra leaves behind a wave of awkward silence. Wells looks to Clarke; he always turns to Clarke during uncomfortable moments. “Octavia don’t let Indra get to you, she’s just doing her job, she’s not blaming you.” There’s no response from the defeated officer, she rests back on the gurney, trying to recall what had transpired earlier. 

“Wells can you keep an eye on her and enter in a lab order for a CT scan, we’ll need to complete the concussion protocol with her. I need to a minute.” 

Clarke walks through the emergency room, looking for Lexa, “where did she go” Clarke ponders. She turns into the locker room, like the emergency room this is the first time she’s encountered such an empty, even the lockers are empty. It’s like all of the emergency room residents had left before the storm hit, is she really the only one left on staff for the emergency room?


	4. Connive, Conceal, Console

Lexa tweaks a finger into her ear, adjusting the small earpiece hiding in her ear canal. “Lexa, are you there? Lexa come in.” The voice in her ear is horse, completely exacerbated. 

“Monty? Have you slept recently? You sound awful.” 

“Lexa! Is that you? Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay, why?”

“Lexa, you’ve been on radio silence for more than ten hours. The last time we spoke you were being shot at and had been hit. Your last words to me were ‘fuck, another gunshot wound to explain to some asinine doctors.’” Monty retorts with frustration, he’s been saying the same two phrases into his microphone his voice, mind, and body are exhausted. 

“Sorry about that Monty. Look I have an issue and I need your help.” 

“Of course, you only ever talk to me when you need things from me. You know Raven treats me a lot better than you do, maybe I should get you a new handler to harass.” Monty’s tone is flat but Lexa knows this is only Monty being Monty, he commonly teases her about having someone replace him; though he never will as she is far too entertaining.

“Monty, we have work to do. I’m at Johns Hopkins, I’m snowed in here, an officer was attacked in the parking garage, her weapon is missing. Can you hack into the security footage, let me know what you can find out about this attack? The guy the officer arrested accosted an emergency room doctor earlier today, I need to make sure the lunatic isn’t loose in the hospital. We need to protect these people.”

“I’ll reach out to Indra, see if she’ll grant us some access to their security features, I’ll need to anyways so I can doctor up your new patient record. Have they discharged you, I can’t modify your file until it moves from active patient to discharged?”

“My file should be cleared from their active patient tracking. Proceed with caution on Indra, she doesn’t know I’m here, yet. You can tell her of my presence but let her know I’m only here as a patient, I have no intention of interfering.”

“Sure thing Lexa. I’ll smooth out the wrinkles so you can wreck more havoc. By the way, did you take out the mark last night so I can close the case file?”

“Affirmative Monty, Jason Stevenson has been eliminated as a threat to the United States of America, the case is closed.”

“Thank you for the official response. I will get to work on accessing the security footage and providing you with play by play of what went down there. Anything else I need to know?”

“Monty, the guy who was arrested threatened people here, this is urgent, please prioritize this project.”

“Will do Lexa, though I think there is more to it than you are letting on to.”

“You always think there is more to something than there usually is. I’ll keep my earpiece in so long as it is safe without risking my cover, but I may not always be able to respond.”

“Noted.” 

Lexa reaches the parking garage just as she signs off with Monty. The police cruiser is parked near the entry to the garage. She examines the area surrounding the vehicle, Moore’s threats ring in her ears, she hopelessly searches for the missing firearm. She finds nothing, no handcuffs, no keys, no gun, no Moore. There is no trace of where the man had gone; the heavily falling snow and blowing winds have erased any tracks that may have been left. She looks out the parking garage, the road has vanished below a blanket of snow. The usual hustle and bustle of the city has silenced, in that moment she feels as if the world has ended. Lexa turns back to the police cruiser, noticing blood on the outside of the rear passenger door, “how odd for the blood to be there; if Moore was being placed into the cruiser the blood should be on the inside of the door.”

Lexa withdrew an exceptionally small pipette from the wristband of her watch, assuring not to smear the blood on the door, she collects a sample of the blood. Flipping open the face of her watch, she places a droplet of the blood onto a small white splotch inside the watch. Within mere seconds the device returns a result; the blood belongs to Officer Octavia Blake of the Baltimore City Police. With confirmation of the blood belonging to Octavia, Lexa remains puzzled on how the blood could be on the outside of the door if Moore was in front of Octavia being loaded into the car.

“Something is off” Lexa declares into the empty parking garage. She removes the phone from her pocket and photographs the area. She walks from the parking garage as she emails the photos to Monty for comparison with security footage.

“Lexa are you able to talk” Monty’s voice invades the silence surrounding Lexa.

“What did you find out?”

“We have an issue Lexa. I haven’t been able to reach Indra but decided we didn’t have time to wait so I hacked into the hospital’s security footage, you know she’ll give us access. I’m trying to pull footage of the garage area and it’s been deleted.”

“WHAT!!! How much, what’s the last thing you have?”

“I have the cop parking and walking towards the sky bridge, that’s it.”

“Wait are the cameras not recording now?   
“They are but when the footage came back up the screen was black. It’s weird, it’s not like the cameras are disconnected, all of the connections are fine, but the screen is unevenly black.” Monty tries to explain the odd anomaly he’s encountering with the security footage. 

“How many cameras are impacted? Do you have anything helpful?” Lexa despises incomplete or inaccurate intel, her success relies on the information she receives, how is she to stop a madman with no intel.

“Lexa, I don’t know, there are hundreds of cameras and the hospitals camera naming system is, well it’s like it’s in another language. Right now, the only ones I can confirm impacted are the ones in and surrounding the Orleans parking garage and the skybridge.”

“Fuck, okay, keep searching, I’m going to head back towards the emergency room, to make sure the threatened staff are safe.” Lexa continues her hurried walk.

While Lexa was off playing detective, Clarke uses the brief moments of silence to check in on the world outside of the hospital. 

Clarke pulls her black duffle bag from her locker to retrieve her cellphone. Sixteen missed calls, eight voicemails, and twenty-six text messages, gawking at the number, “what the hell? When did I become so popular? Or did a little snowstorm lead people to believe the world is ending.” Clarke laughs at her end of the world joke. As there are fewer voicemails than text messages she begins with them. 

“Please enter your passcode.” She relaxes back in the recliner in the corner of the room and she enters her passcode. 

“New message sent at nine forty-three am; Clarke, its Mom, wondering if you want to do lunch today? Or are you on today? Call me back and let me know. Love you.”

Clarke deletes the message; her mother never keeps her shift schedule in mind, or she does and simply ignores it.

“New message sent at nine fifty-seven am; hey Clarke, I know you’re working today, just thought I’d come by for lunch so we could talk. See you around eleven, hope you’re having a great day. Lov…”

Clarke deletes the message before it finishes, there is no need to listen, she knows what Finn was about to say. How is it that a boy she broke up with six weeks ago knows her schedule and her mother doesn’t?

“New message sent at ten thirteen am; hi sweetie, just checking in again. I guess you’re working today. Maybe I’ll just swing by the hospital and visit. Depending on the weather. Love you.” Clarke rolls her eyes as she deletes the message, her mother is clearly plotting with Finn, again.

When Clarke told her mother about Finn, she was delighted to hear Clarke had chosen an ambitious young man to date, extra emphasis on the man part. Abby was relieved as Clarke’s previous relationship had been with a scandalous woman hell-bent on destroying Clarke’s future. Abby chalked it up to college experimentation; Clarke ignored her mother’s disregard for the seriousness and importance of her relationship with Carly. 

“New message sent at ten forty-six am; hey honey, I’m not going to make it to the hospital to visit you today. Mercy called me in, apparently one of my patients came in today demanding to see me. Sorry to cancel. Love you.” Delete, Clarke can’t help but think “is it really a cancellation if I wasn’t planning on it?”

“New message sent at eleven fourteen am; so you looked busy when I came by. I waited around a bit but you seemed to be all over the place. By the way you look amazing today. I’ll come back by to take you to dinner. See you then. Lov…” She shaking her head in disbelief, did she actually just hear what she thought she just heard? He’s still calling, still saying I love you, and still coming to her work uninvited, what a creep.

“New message sent at twelve twenty-seven pm; Clarke I just spoke with Kane, he said a patient’s parent attacked you today, are you okay? Why didn’t you call and why aren’t you answering your phone? This is why you need a man around Clarke, you need someone to protect you. You’ve punished Finn long enough Clarke. It’s time to forgive him and take him back before he finds someone else. He’s a good man, Clarke, just like your father.”

The comparison makes Clarke seethe with anger, Finn is nothing like her father, how dare she speak about her father, the woman should be in prison for his death. She should have lost her license to drive and to practice medicine, but no. Her father was dead and thanks to Chief of Police Jaha, Abby faced no repercussions for her decision. Hot tears burn at Clarke’s eyes.

“New message sent at twelve forty-six pm; Clarke my love, mom just told me about what happened with your patient this morning. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there; I should have been there to protect you. I’m on my way back to the hospital, the weather is getting awful out here, but I’ll be there, I’ll protect you. No one will ever hurt you again.” Once again disbelief consumes her, she did not need protecting and she wasn’t hurt, she handled the situation. How in the world did Kane describe this situation to Abby to have it twisted into such a manner that Finn has gone full possessive? 

“New message sent at one forty-nine pm; my phone is about to die, and my car got stuck in the snow. I’m sorry Clarke, I’ll be there I promise, Lov….” Rolling her eyes Clarke mumbles “I promise I don’t care.”

She deletes the last voicemail, her ear is hot from holding the phone to it for so long. She swipes to her text messages, twenty texts from Finn, she quickly scrolls through the texts. “I’m sorry Clarke. I love you. Please take me back. You’re my everything.” “I love when you wear your hair down, it’s so beautiful.” “Wow, you sure are spending a lot of time with that woman, not that she’s any competition to me, don’t go experimenting again.” “I’m thinking burgers for dinner, thoughts.” The texts continue to drone on, some unnerving, some obnoxious, and others such absurd. The last text though is beyond spine-chilling, “I did this for you. Phone is about dead, I’ll see you soon my love.” The last text was sent at two thirty-seven pm. “Maybe he’s mad he got his crappy car stuck in the snow. Hopefully, he decided to walk home.” Clarke prays he’s not near the hospital, there’s no way she’ll survive being stuck in the hospital with him during this lockdown. She’ll end up killing him, she exits her text conversation with Finn, electing no response is the best option, she just needs to stop feeding his obsessiveness, perhaps it’s encouraging him. 

Next are two texts from Wells, they’re his typical long-winded apologizing texts. He was apologizing for their encounter that morning, explaining how stressed he was, how the political nature surrounding his father was backlashing onto him, how people were calling him an Uncle Tom, how he was sorry that such distance had grown between them, how he missed his best friend. 

Clarke feels terrible for pushing Wells away, they had always been best of friends, she knows it wasn’t his fault, she’s glad he told her the truth about the accident, but she can’t help it that every time she sees him, she’s flashed back to the night her father was killed. Back to the moment he told her Abby had been the driver not Jake, to him telling her that her mother’s blood alcohol level was a point two six. In a single conversation, Wells had killed her father and made her mother a murderer, who would never pay the price for her crimes because of Well’s father. 

The car accident wasn’t Wells fault, her mother’s drinking and then driving wasn’t Wells fault, her mother running the stoplight and plowing into a garbage truck resulting in her father being ejected from the car, floating through space and violently smashing to the earth was not Well’s fault, but it was his words that broke her heart. It was his eyes she stared into as the horrific accident unfolded itself in her imagination. She didn’t blame Wells, and she certainly didn’t hate him, but she couldn’t look at him and not think about the night that destroyed her family.

Wiping hot tears from her face and shaking her head of the awful memory, Clarke closes the text conversation with Wells, and looks to see what her mom had to say. “Lunch at 11?” “Sorry can’t make lunch, duty calls.” And finally, another long tirade about how she needs to take Finn back, this time it ended with a “before he finds someone better.” Clarke’s mother has always been skilled at sticking the dagger right through the heart, a skill Clarke developed at a young age and has admittedly used to end a relationship or two.

The final text was from Octavia, and like Octavia it is short and sweet, “There’s a hottie in three and she is totally checking you out.” Clarke smiles for the first time since she entered the locker room. Enjoying the brief reminder of Lexa’s subtle smile. 

Clarke stands from the recliner and stretches, arching her back and extending her arms. Her body relaxes as she places her phone in her jacket pocket and shoves her duffle bag back into the locker. As she pushes open the locker room door a feminine hand catches the door and holds it open. 

“Hey! Where did you disappear to? You were there one minute and then just gone, like a ninja.” Clarke smiles at Lexa, she’s not sure why but something about the woman’s presence calms her.

Lexa greets Clarke’s smile with her charming subtle smile. “Well doctor, I decided you would need another coffee after that incident and honestly all of the IV fluid you pumped into me earlier plus the coffee really made me have to pee.” Lexa reciprocates the banter hoping her lofting tone hides her true motivations. 

Clarke reaches out and takes the warm coffee from Lexa’s offering hand. The warmth of the small generic coffee cup warms Clarke as the bitterly cold day is slowly invading the empty emergency room. 

“Lexa, I’m starving and I’m assuming you must be as well, since you’ve not eaten since you came in, unless you snuck a bite when you disappeared.” Clarke stumbles over her words.

“Clarke, would you like to get a bite to eat with me? I hear this hospital has pretty decent food.” Lexa asks the question Clarke struggled to ask. 

“Is there some hospital food blog out there that I’m unaware of or do you find yourself to be a connoisseur of hospital food?” This time Clarke’s response flowed without a stumble. “I’m not sure what is still open, but if you’d like to join me, I can prevent you from getting lost again.”

“Come one Clarke, I wasn’t lost, I just went to get coffee and to use the bathroom.” 

“Lexa if it took you over an hour to do those two things you may have some serious uterine health issues. Also, since this particular cup is from the vending machine near the parking garage, and since there is a coffee vending machine two halls over, next to a waiting room and bathrooms, I have to say you were either lost or you were up to something else. Maybe you were off deleting your hospital records again.” Clarke is more observant than Lexa realized, a beneficial skill. 

“Alright, so maybe I got a little lost, this place is huge and sometimes the layout makes absolutely no sense to me. Can we go eat now?” Lexa attempts to cover her tracks hoping Clarke does not suspect more than the idea that Lexa was a little lost. 

The two walk through the massive hospital in near silence, side glances and little smiles are the only communications between them. The long corridors are a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with the hospital, Lexa has the complex nature of the hospital memorized, she’s studied the floorplans for months preparing for an assignment, an assignment that has now, essentially, been accelerated. Her months of study tell her the fastest way to Zayed Tower is the opposite route Clarke is taking her, Lexa is glad the venture will be longer as she still doesn’t know where Moore has disappeared to or what happened to the cameras in the parking garage.

The naturally lit garden vistas of Zayed Tower are dimmed by the falling snow. Gray skies loom above while large white flakes flutter to the ground, the glass rattles as the wind blows around the exterior walls. The weather casts a darkening feeling throughout the hospital. They hear soft chatter as they approach the atrium, Lexa’s stomach growls at the aroma of the cooking food. She just now realizes how just how hungry she is. 

A few of the restaurants remain open, Clarke assumes Kane had something to do with that. “Well Lexa what would you like to eat, my treat, I did cause you to be stuck here after all.”

“Clarke, if I didn’t want to stay I would have left hours ago, so there is no fault on your part for me being stuck in this hospital. You saved my arm, any other doctor would have amputated it, so what would you like to eat?”

“Lexa, no one would have amputated your arm. Although Dr. Jaha may have been tempted to, but that was because he thought you were a pain in the ass. I can’t let a patient treat me to a meal, we are not allowed to take gifts from patients.”

“He has no sense of humor or patience, he’s lucky I didn’t amputate his arm and beat him with it. And I’m not your patient anymore, so no conflict here, think of me as just some girl you met in a bar.” Lexa offers a coy smirk as she banters with Clarke.

“Ah yes the Emergency Room bar, my second favorite bar next to Max’s Taphouse.” Clarke encourages the bantering to continue, it’s nice to have someone to talk to without worrying about what the other person is plotting, she enjoys the comfort she feels while in Lexa’s presence. 

The pair decide on burritos from Baja Fresh, which the hospital incurs the cost for, this time neither girl will treat the other. “I guess I’ll have to get you something to eat another time Clarke.” Another coy smile pulls at her full lips. 

The pair settle for a table near the windows and ate their food in relative silence. Soft moans of satisfaction escape Clarke’s mouth, her appetite is insatiable, as she savagely inhales her burrito. Typically, she is more conversational during a meal, but her seemingly uncontrollable hunger will not allow her to slow long enough to speak. Once she finishes her food, she looks up to see Lexa gawking at her with a mild look of shock adorning her face. 

“Hungry much?” Lexa teases as she takes another bite of her half-eaten burrito. 

Clarke’s cheeks pink in embarrassment, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how hungry I was and during residency I’ve learned to eat very fast as a page will always come when you’re trying to eat.”

“No need to apologize. I’m actually quite impressed, I haven’t seen someone eat like that since my special forces training.” Lexa let’s her guard slip and reveals a bit more information than she intended, she hopes if she ignores the blunder, so would Clarke. 

“Special forces, that would make you a significant badass. I know only two other people who were in the special forces and they are both, without question, badass. Do you happen to know Indra or Lincoln, they served together?”

Lexa’s hope extinguishes, Clarke not only caught the information, she responds with follow-up questions. Now she must decide how much she can trust Clarke and what little she can say to change the topic of conversation. 

“Dr. Griffin?” A questioning woman distracts Clarke before Lexa has the opportunity to speak.

“Mrs. Sanders? Is everything okay, is Luke okay?” Clarke immediately diverts her attention from Lexa to the concerned mother standing nearby.

“He’s doing better, I just want to thank you for taking the time to come back and check on him and for making sure Dr. Tolfkosky was paged. I don’t know what I would do without Luke after…losing Vincent.” The woman’s grief overcomes her as tears begin to stream down her face, sorrow shakes in her chest stealing her words. 

Clarke stands and approaches the woman, ushering her to the table where she and Lexa are sitting. Lexa stands offering the woman her chair and walks towards the small eateries. Clarke grabs her chair and pulls it closer to the sobbing woman. Patricia shakes as the tears continue to flow down her cheeks, her uneven breaths catch in her throat as her sobs intensify. Lexa returns with a steaming hot cup of coffee, a selection of flavored creamers, and a variety of sweetener packets. She places the items on the table in front of Patricia Sanders. Lexa grabs a chair from a neighboring table and positions it where Clarke’s chair once was, she sits silently in the chair, while Clarke comforts the woman.

“Mrs. Sanders, Luke is going to be okay, Dr. Tolfkosky is one of the best, I know he is prioritizing your son’s case. Luke is getting the best medical care in the country; we will not let anything happen to him.” As Clarke comforts the woman the streaming tears begin to slow, Lexa offers a napkin to the woman as she begins to wipe her cheeks with the sleeve of her cardigan.

“I know Luke will be okay and I am so grateful to you and Dr. Tolfkosky, it’s just every time I think of losing Luke I think of Vincent and how I lost him and I just can’t lose this last piece I have of him.” Patricia stares off into the distance lost in her memories, she needs to talk to someone, to have someone listen to her, to comfort her, even if it is a stranger as she cries in the middle of a hospital. Clarke and Lexa offer welcoming smiles, they remain silent allowing Patricia to express her feelings without interruption. 

“A year and a half ago Vincent and I decided we wanted to try to have a baby, it had taken my sister eight months to get pregnant, and my brother and his wife tried for four years before they were finally able to conceive. Vincent’s commitment to the Army was to be up in a year, so we thought it was the perfect time to start trying. We assumed it would take a few months, three months later we found out I was pregnant. Six months later Vincent was selected for a special operation in Afghanistan, it was to be a short mission, two months at the longest, his commanding officer said he would be home before Luke would be born. It all felt wrong, he wasn’t supposed to be deployed again, his enlistment was about to end, my dad already had a job lined up for him. Six weeks after he left ... it was a Sunday morning, my parents were visiting, my mother was overly protective of me and didn’t like the idea of me being alone in the final months of my pregnancy so they came over nearly every day, and she would often stay the night ‘just in case,’ she’d pretty much always stay. My father was upstairs assembling a wooden recliner they had bought for us, an early Christmas gift, mom and I were in the kitchen, I made breakfast as mom sipped her coffee. It was a beautiful winter’s morning, there was fresh snow on the ground and the sun was shining, a picture-perfect day, until I heard the knock.” Patricia pauses, her mind painting a vivid memory of the day her life changed.

“It was a loud knock, something you only hear in the movies when the cops are about to break down a door. I remember my mom jumping at the sound, spilling a small amount of coffee on her light blue blouse. My father’s footsteps mirroring mine as he walked across the upstairs towards the stairs. I reached the door as he stepped behind me. I could see the blurry image of green material in the glass windows framing the doorway. As I turned the knob my heart began to race and my hands sweat, I knew it was Vincent, I knew something had happened. The men were apologetic, they were kind and gentle, they told me how Vincent was in an aircraft, how they were supposed to jump into an area for their mission, but that the plane was shot down over enemy lines. Aerial reconnaissance showed the crash site, that all passengers had been declared killed in action, they said there was no way someone could have survived the crash. I collapsed into my father’s arms, he held me as I held my stomach, knowing my baby boy would never know his father. A few weeks later we held a funeral, I buried a casket, a symbol of my husband’s death but it was empty and it remains empty, as the military has not been allowed to recover the bodies from the crash site. Every day I prayed Vincent would return to me, that he had survived the crash and that he would show up. I guess I’ve accepted it now; all I have left of him is Luke. Who is the spitting image of his father. Vincent’s mother made me all these copies of his baby pictures, and we’ve framed them next to pictures of Luke, if it wasn’t for the dated looks of Vincent’s photos you wouldn’t know who was who. I just wish Vincent had met Luke and that Luke would have known his father, but he won’t he’ll never know how amazing his dad was.” Patricia lays her face in her hands as soft tears fall from her eyes. She’s never retold the story of the day she lost her husband to anyone, she’s never shared how she clung onto hope that the man she loved was still alive, she has never opened up, and here she was in the middle of a hospital spilling her sadness out to two women she knows nothing about. 

“Your husband was a very brave man, he died trying to bring freedom to others. You honor his memory with your strength and your son will know about his father, about his bravery and courage, about his loyalty to family and country, because your love for him will teach Luke everything he needs to know about his father.” Lexa’s kind and gentle words are reassuring bringing Patricia a slight bit of comfort. Her words take Clarke by surprise, she does not know much of the woman who intrigues her, but nonetheless she sits in wonderment by the softness and considerate words. 

“Lexa’s right, your memories of Vincent will teach Luke so much about his father. I’m so sorry for your loss, but know you are a great mom. Luke will know his father through you.” Clarke’s unsure of what to say, she knows the pain of losing a father, but cannot help to think if Luke’s loss is the easier loss. 

“Thank you both. I’m sorry for ruining your dinner. I just needed an escape from the beeping, the sounds of all the machines, the hurried whispers between the nurses, thank you for giving me a moment of reprieve. I should be getting back to Luke.” Nodding her goodbye to Lexa and Clarke, Patricia stands from the table, wiping her eyes one final time.   
Lexa leans back in her chair, exhaling her held breath. Before Clarke speaks a page comes over the intercom, “Dr. Griffin please report to the Emergency Room, an ambulance is in bound.”

A puzzled Clarke questions, “How in the world is an ambulance making it through this weather” 

“I’m guessing with chains and a plow ahead,” Lexa retorts with her sly smile.


	5. A Captain No More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience with this chapter my dears, it is a necessary evil. I've kept it shorter than the last and will award you with finishing it by giving you chapter 6 right away, which is very Clexa heavy.

While doctors, nurses, and patients prepare for a lockdown, two mysterious figures stand on a dock waiting. Across the water the taxi has loaded their final passengers for the day and begins their precarious journey across the harbor. 

Tumultuous wakes replace the typically calm waters of the harbor. The brackish water beats against the side of the small water taxi ferrying passengers across the harbor. The boat races against time as visibility slowly reduces. The large structures lining the harbor begin to disappear behind a curtain of snow. The captain is confident he can ferry these last few passengers safely across the water using the Under Armour factory as his point of reference. The passengers cling to the railings of the boat as it bounces across the choppy water. Their faces redden from the chilly temperature and drip with moisture from the failing snow and splashing waves while their stomachs turn at the roughness of the ride. 

The boat begins to slow as the small dock appears slightly in the distance. The captain loosens his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and finally exhales a breath of relief. As the boat approaches its final destination passengers cautiously stand brushing the collected snow from their laps. These fortunate passengers live in condos on the waterfront allowing them to return home even with the roads closed. As the area surrounding the dock becomes more visible, the captain notices two men awaiting the boat, he hopes they are waiting for a passenger to arrive rather than expecting a ferry across the harbor. The captain will be making no more trips across the harbor until the storm has ceased. 

The boat comes to a stop as the captain turns off engine. He moves from the steering wheel to tie the boat to the dock. With careful steps he guides each passenger to the permanent ramp on the dock, allowing them to safely exit the boat. Once the last passenger steps off the ramp, the two waiting men approach, walking swiftly up the ramp. Their tan skin stands out against the blanketing snow. They wear dark clothing, leather gloves, and military style boots, their appearance is almost uniformed. The only obvious difference between the two men is the style of their facial hair, one opting for a goatee while the other carries a full beard.

“Gentlemen, the ferry is no longer running, it’s unsafe to drive the boat across the harbor, visibility is too low and the water too rough. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.” The captain bellows respectfully above the hollowing winds.

The two men speak to each other in Spanish, while observing the surrounding area. The captain listens to the conversation, even though he does not understand what the men are saying he knows his discussion with them is not over. He quickly begins securing the boat to the dock as the men discuss their situation.

The bearded man steps onto the boat, “You will take us to the other side” he declares to the captain. 

The heavy snow continues to fall, sending a shiver down the captain’s spine or perhaps it is the demanding presence of these two men that causes the shiver. Either way he is resolved in his decision, he will not ferry any additional passengers. “Sir, I’m not taking this boat anywhere until the storm has cleared.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you, you will take us.” The bearded man states as the other man also steps onto the boat. The men walk towards the captain, leading him towards the stern of the boat. In a heavy accent the other man speaks, “you have two choices, drive the boat or let me drive the boat. Either way my brother and I will cross this water today.”

“I will not, now get off my boa...” Before the captain is able to finish his sentence, he feels himself lifted into the air, his heart begins to pound. Strong hands grip his arms and legs. The two men lift the captain from the boat and toss him into the water below. 

The captain pushes against the force of the men as he struggles for air. He thrashes his body, fighting to escape the grasp of the frigid water. The men tighten their grip on the captain’s arms, shoving him further into the water. The captain tries to free himself, digging his fingers into the gloved hands holding onto him, clawing for freedom. He kicks, trying to thrust his body upwards. For a second he is able to penetrate the water’s surface, he takes a shallow breath before the two men force him beneath the surface. This breath is far too shallow and leaves his lungs pleading for more. His lungs burn for air, as panic fills his mind, he can no longer fight his body’s urge to breathe, relinquishing control his lungs gasp, desperate for air only to be filled with brackish water. He coughs at the invasion of water filling his lungs allowing even more water to fill them, he tries to fight his body’s nature instinct to breath but fails. His body twitches as it is denied the precious air it needs. The captain’s eyes bulge, his final image of two figures looming above rough waters blackens. 

The two men loosen their grip on the lifeless body, in the distance they hear a woman’s faint voice “Tor do you need help with the boat?” The men faintly see a woman approaching the dock.

“Miguel, get the body out of the water.” The man, sporting a suave goatee states as he pushes the bearded man into the water.

“Aye, Ugueth I could have got out him without being in the water.” Miguel mumbles through shivering teeth.

“I know, but now it looks like you tried to save him.” Ugueth responds as he stands. “Help, the captain he fell into the water, help, call for help.”

The woman runs towards the boat when she hears the panicked cries for help. She prays that she had misheard the voice in the distance. With bated breath she steps onto the boat to see two men attempting to pull Tor’s body from the water. 

“What happened” she asks as she hurries to the back of the boat in effort to help lift Tor from the water. 

“He was trying to tie to the dock when a wave hit the boat. He lost his footing and fell in. We heard the splash and ran to help. My brother, he jumps in to save the man, but struggles against the rough water to reach him.” Ugueth regurgitates an elaborate story while etching concern in his tone.

With another push from Miguel and pull from Ugueth, they pull Tor onto the boat. His lips are blue and his eyes open, the man is clearly dead. Ugueth rakes his hand across the man’s face to close his eyes before the woman could see. 

“Hurry, help your brother out of the water, there’s an amazing hospital only a few blocks away on the other side of the harbor, we need to get him there, and your brother will need a doctor as well.” The woman hurries the men as she rushes towards the boat’s controls. 

She’s navigated the boat many times, though never in such dreadful weather. She always covered for Tor when he had to take his daughter Reese to the doctor, the family is all too familiar with the medical staff at Johns Hopkins. 

Unlike the captain’s cautious travel across the harbor, the woman accelerates the boat at dangerous speeds. Tor’s lifeless body slides on the deck of the boat, Miguel sits nearby shivering uncontrollably, Ugueth sits watching for the opposing harbor’s dock to come into sight “I will be getting across the water today.”

Using the CB radio in the water taxi, the woman calls for help, asking for them to meet her at the water taxi loading site near Fell’s Point. 

“Precinct 37, rescue needs assistance at the Fell’s Point water taxi dock, a man has fallen into the water and another went in after him.” Feeling the urge to punch something, Bellamy hears Jackson’s familiar voice on the radio, even Jackson has a call.

Irritation fuels Bellamy today, annoyed that he had been left at the station to answer emergency calls. Other officers are out closing roads and handling fights at stores over the last snow shovel, while he is stuck in the empty police station. Even his fragile sister had been sent out on a call, he rolls his eyes wondering why Octavia had not yet returned from her call, surely the situation at the hospital had been resolved by now. 

“Jackson, you’re the paramedic, what do you need.” Bellamy questions with aggravation.

“I’m the only one here and I have two victims, the other paramedics were called out to a lady in labor. I need someone to help with the victims and to drive the bus. Do you have staffing to spare?”

This is his chance to escape the precinct, the only people left at the station are Maggie and himself, and Maggie’s driving record indicates pretty clearly she should not be allowed to drive anything larger than a grocery cart. “Hey Mags, watch the desk will ya, rescue needs some assistance. I’ll radio in later.”

Maggie, sweet old lady who busies her time volunteering at the police station, nods in agreement. Her husband had been a decorated officer before he was gunned down during a routine traffic stop. She is energetic for a seventy-year-old retiree and the officers love having her around, of course that is likely linked to her famous chocolate chip cookies. Bellamy offers her a grateful wave as he heads towards the exist, grabbing his coat from the coat rack as he goes.

Bellamy zips up his heavy coat and rushes outside. Jackson arrives seconds later, Bellamy opens the driver’s side door as Jackson slides into the back of the ambulance. “Bellamy go fast but be safe, I need to get some warming solutions made.”

The tires of the ambulance dig through the deepening snow as it travels towards Fell’s Point. The narrow streets, deep snow, and excessive number of parked cars make for a slow journey, there is certainly a reason the mayor had declared a state of emergency and closed the roads.

The small water taxi bounces violently across the harbor as it hurries towards Fell’s Point. Miguel is now convulsing from the cold, while Tor’s body lifelessly bounces on the deck of the boat, even Ugueth is feeling the chill of the air.

“How are they? We should be there soon; I think I can see the dock.” The woman is trying to stay focused on the treacherous waters ahead but her mind, her concern is with the man who had no hope. 

“If we get them there soon, they’ll be okay. Just get us there.” Ugueth tries to hide is contempt for the situation, lucky for him that the bellowing winds muffle his voice, disguising his tone for him.

When the boat pulls up to the dock, the woman quickly begins to tie the boat to the dock, as Ugueth steps onto the ramp. “Do you see the ambulance” the woman yells.

“No. Where is Johns Hopkins hospital, is it close enough to walk to in the snow?”

“Wait, why would you walk there, the ambulance is on the way, they’ll take us there. Please help me get Tor off the boat, then I’ll help you with your brother.” Understanding that waiting for the ambulance is his best option, Ugueth steps back onto the boat to help the woman with the body of the man he had killed. 

The woman struggles to help lift Tor’s lifeless body, she fights under his weight and slips from the accumulated snow on the boat’s deck. Realizing the woman’s attempted assistance is more of a hinderance than useful, Ugueth heaves the man’s body onto his shoulder. She follows behind, her movements sluggish.

The woman collapses to the ground as Ugueth flops Tor’s body next to her. This is the first time the woman has seen Tor up close, she grabs his shirt collar and shakes his lifeless body, “Tor, hang on help is on the way, do it for Reese, you can’t let go that little girl needs you.” 

Ugueth sneers at the woman and turns back to the boat. As he approaches Miguel he notices the man is no longer alert, Ugueth bends over placing two fingers against Miguel’s neck. Miguel’s breaths are shallow and his pulse faint, he does not have much time left. Ugueth lifts Miguel over his shoulder, feeling the bitterly cold chill of Miguel pressing against his neck he carries him from the boat, roughly dropping him to the ground next to Tor. 

The muffled sound of sirens can be heard in the distance. Ugueth focuses on the moment at hand, he knows he needs to sell this story, soon he feels the stinging burn of tears in his eyes. He allows a few tears to streak down his cheek, leaving a freezing trail in their wake.

Bellamy slows the ambulance to a stop as close to the dock as possible. “Jackson, we cannot wait here long, the ambulance will get stuck.” Bellamy steps into the rear of the ambulance to help Jackson with the stretcher and supplies. 

“Bellamy, this isn’t going to go through the snow we are going to have to carry it.” Jackson is right, the snow is far too deep to push the small wheels of the stretcher through. Together they grab the stretcher and trudge towards the water.

Within seconds they have come across the shivering foursome of Ugueth, Miguel, Tor, and Shalene. “Oh please, please help, they fell into the water they need your help.” Shalene calls out. Her lips have transitioned from crimson to blue and her complexion is pale other than her ruby red cheeks; she’s been out in the cold for far too long. 

“Ma’am, you need to start warming up, can you walk to the ambulance unassisted?” Jackson recognizes the signs of hypothermia and knows the woman needs to start raising her body temperature.

“Yes” she answers her voice quivering with her shivering body. The woman stands, her body never reaching its full extension, she looks like a piece of partially frozen piece of meat, semi-malleable but mostly stiff. 

Bellamy turns to the man the woman had been hovering over, “Jackson this guy is dead, there is no chance of saving him, he’s gone.”

“Bellamy, we can’t leave the guy here. He’ll be buried in the snow, it’ll be days, if not weeks till they’ll be able to recover the body.”

“Jackson, we have two more people to get in that ambulance, let’s check the other two then decide what to do with this one.”

Ugueth walks over to Bellamy, “you’ll take us to Johns Hopkins” the man asks in a thick accent. 

“Of course sir. We need to assess this other man and then we will leave.”

“Okay. This is my brother Miguel, he went into the water after that man. He wasn’t in the water long.”

Jackson turns his attention to Miguel, the man is blue, his pulse nearly nonexistent, his breathing exceptionally shallow. “Bellamy, help me get this man onto the stretcher.” Turning to Ugueth, “Sir, I know you’re cold, and that this has been very traumatizing, but are you strong enough to carry that man’s body to the ambulance.”

“I’ll try.” Ugueth stands and lifts Tor’s stiff body onto his shoulders. He feels weak but he knows to complete his mission he must help and not raise any suspicions.

Bellamy and Jackson lift the stretcher and walk their way through the deepening snow. They slide the stretcher into the ambulance, Shalene sits on the small bench in the back of the ambulance. 

“Sir, we have it from here, thank you for your help, you and your brother are true heroes. Please go get in the front seat, start getting warm, we’ll be leaving very shortly.” Bellamy sees a true hero, a man who helped a stranger and even when weak continued to help. 

“Jackson what are we going to do with this man?” Bellamy stares at the lifeless body trying to figure out what they should do with it.

“Unlock the stretcher, I’ll hold it against the bench, that should provide us just enough floor space to slide his body in on its side. It’s not the most dignified body recovery, but it’s the only option we have.”

“Got it.” The two men work quickly adjusting the position of the stretcher to fit the lifeless body in the ambulance.

Jackson steps into the back of the ambulance, Bellamy slams the doors shut, and moves to the driver’s side of the ambulance, sliding behind the steering wheel. He puts it into drive and prays it had not yet become stuck. After a moment of hesitancy, the ambulance begins to pull forward in the heavy snow. 

Jackson quickly removes Miguel’s jacket and cuts free his shirt; the wet clothes offer no warmth. With the man’s arm exposed, Jackson inserts a needle into his vein and begins a warming solution I.V. He then cuts free the remainder of the man’s clothing, piling the wet garments on the floor of the ambulance. He covers Miguel in a sheet and warming blankets. 

Jackson then turns his attention to Shalene, she is a bit more hunched now and her shivering has increased, he assists her with removing her jacket and starts a warming solution IV treatment for her as well. He opens another warming blanket and wraps it around her. 

“Sir how are you feeling, do you need a blanket? Bellamy how does he look?”

“I’m fine, very strong, it is very warm in here.” Ugueth dismisses Jackson’s concern and turns his attention to Bellamy, “How long till we get to Johns Hopkins?” 

Bellamy finds the man’s point of focus to be odd, as Ugueth he asks no questions about his brother’s condition and claims to be fine though his shivering is observable, knowing this man is a hero, Bellamy pushes aside the oddity and instead assumes it is because of cultural differences. 

“The snow is deep; the drive will be slow, but it shouldn’t take too long. Do not worry we will make sure you and your brother receive the best care possible.” Bellamy reaches out and turns up the heat in the ambulance, sweat pools at his temples; however, his discomfort is of little concern when it comes to the health of his passengers.

The ambulance slips and slides on the snow packed roads, nearly striking several cars, today Bellamy’s driving skills must be impressive. He navigates the large vehicle on the narrow roads with care and considerable haste. The weather is worsening, visibility is scarce, and the depth of the snow is increasing to a nearly impassable amount. 

“Bellamy how much longer?” Jackson knows the man on the stretcher has very little time left and the woman sitting next to him is fading quickly. There is only so much a warming solution can do and flimsy warming blankets can do, these people need a hospital. 

“Jackson, I think about five minutes, we’re only a couple of blocks away.” Bellamy knows it is closer to ten minutes than five, but he hopes he’ll be able to cut the time, hopes the roads will become less crowded with parked cars, allowing him to drive quicker without having to worry about hitting anything.

Jackson reaches for the small radio on his shoulder, “Hopkins E.R. ambulance ETA five minutes, one DOA, one with advanced hypothermia, two suffering from moderate hypothermia, copy?” 

Jackson waits for a response, there is nothing but radio silence. He tries again, he knows there has to be staff remaining to treat anyone that may arrive during the storm, he knows they wouldn’t close the emergency room, “would they” he thought to himself. 

Again, Jackson calls into his radio praying someone would answer, “This is the Johns Hopkins emergency room, affirmative on ETA five minutes.” Relief floods over Jackson as voice on the other end confirms, now he needs to keep the man in front of him alive until they reach the hospital.


	6. Fire and Ice

While an ambulance traverses the hazardous conditions outside, Clarke and Lexa prepare for a different kind of chaos. 

The elevator doors open revealing the still empty Emergency Room. Lexa walks out of the elevator before Clarke quickly scanning the area, she is still concerned for Clarke’s safety, she can’t help but wonder where Moore had disappeared to, was he working with someone else, is that who blacked out the cameras in the parking garage. Where is Monty with some damn updates.

“Lexa really, you didn’t have to come back down here with me, I’ll find Kane, have him let you know what room he’s putting you in for the next night or so, you can go watch T.V. and relax, I’ll come check on you later.”

“Don’t worry about me Clarke, I enjoy watching you work, seeing the exciting life of an emergency room doctor.”

“It’s not that exciting.” Clarke tries to deflect. “You can stay in the casting room, which is right here, it has a T.V. so hopefully you won’t get too bored.”

“Thanks Clarke, seriously don’t worry about me, I never get bored.” Lexa acquiesces to Clarke’s proposal, as she takes a seat in the recliner and turns on the television feigning a relaxed attitude.

“Clarke, there you are, the ambulance will be here any minute.” Wells shouts from the nurses’ station, perhaps he fails to realize that there is no need to shout as the department is soaked in silence. Clarke rolls her eyes and turns from Lexa walking towards Wells.

“You know there’s only like three of us in the emergency room, there is no need to yell. So, what’s the trauma.”

“Oh, it’s a woman, she’s eight months pregnant and is most definitely in labor, with twins. One of the babies is already crowning and may be delivered in the ambulance.”

“Ok, did you page the nursery? Do we have any OB-GYNs in the building at the moment?”

“Umm. I didn’t think about that.” 

“Wells, you’re so lucky the nurses like you. You have to think of these things, as you can see you won’t always have a nurse to do this thinking for you.”

Clarke picks up the phone and calls the Labor and Delivery department requesting any support they may have, and then calls the Maternal Child Unit requesting support from their teams and letting them know there will be a new mother, with twins, transferring over to their department in a few hours. As soon as Clarke hangs up the phone the ambulance arrives, sirens blaring and lights dancing across the walls.

She unlocks the ambulance bay doors and then, with Wells help, forces the doors open as snow piles into the doorway. The doors on the ambulance fling open, resonating the sounds of a baby’s wails. 

“Baby A didn’t want to wait, he delivered about two minutes ago. Baby B is right there waiting to come.” Wells helps the paramedic out of the ambulance as she cradles the newborn. Clarke helps the other paramedic with the stretcher, her hand slips in blood as she pulls the stretcher from the ambulance, blood is everywhere.

As Clarke looks to Wells, she sees the nurses from labor and delivery arriving with two incubators and an OB-GYN, she is thankful there’s one still in the hospital. 

“Oh my God he’s coming” the mother yells. Clarke turns back to the mother just in time to catch the baby slipping from the woman’s extended vagina. Blood and other bodily fluids go everywhere. Clarke holds the newborn as the paramedic clamps the umbilical cord.

“Would you like to cut the cord ma’am” Clarke offers the exhausted mother. With a shaky hand she reaches out taking the scissors from the paramedic. The paramedic holds her hand steady as she clips the newborn’s umbilical cord. She lays back against the stretcher completely exhausted. 

“Do you have names for them” the Labor and Delivery nurse ask as they pushed the mother towards a trauma room.

“Yes, the first one is Thane and this little guy,” she points to the newborn in Clarke’s arms “is Garrus, my husband has an obsession with video games.”

“Thank you for taking care of the patient Dr. Griffin, my team will take over from here.” Dr. Blackmon expresses to Clarke as she rests Garrus in the incubator. The team transfers the woman to an emergency room gurney and wheel her and the incubators out of the Emergency Room. 

Clarke looks down at herself she is covered in blood, “Wells, I’m going to go shower and change. Let me know if you need me back, I should be back in twenty minutes if I don’t hear from you to hurry.”

Clarke walks to the casting room to discover Lexa fast asleep in the recliner, she couldn’t help but pause, briefly enjoying the subtle beauty of the woman. She left the woman and continues her walk to the locker room, a nice hot shower ss exactly what she needs. 

When she reaches the locker room, she grabs her cellphone from her pocket, there were no missed calls, no messages, no texts, she can finally enjoy a world without Finn, thanks to his dead cellphone battery. She retrieves fresh clothes from her gym bag, including new scrubs and shoes, everything she’s wearing is covered in blood. 

She walks into the showers and strips off her bloody scrubs dropping them into the hazardous fluids clothing bin and places her shoes next to the bin. She lifts off her sports bra releasing her supple breasts from their fabric prison, and slips her panties down, her body aches, she is drained, for some reason the simple act of removing her clothes relaxes her. She steps into the hot water; the heat washes away her worries and relaxes her muscles.

As Clarke showers someone is busy shuffling through her belongings. Meanwhile, a whispering voice awakens a sleeping Lexa.

“Lexa, can you talk? Lexa come in?” Monty whispers into his headset. He needs to speak with Lexa, he’s still not sure what is going on, but he needs to update her. 

Lexa shifts in the recliner, grabbing at her now aching arm. She wonders how long she’s slept for, across the emergency room she can see a maintenance worker cleaning up small pools of blood, she must’ve only been asleep for a short time. She scans over the department and does not see the one person she’s looking for “where had Clarke gone to now? She is certainly one who likes to keep busy, another key attribute,” Lexa notes to herself. 

“Lexa, are you there? I need you to get somewhere you can talk this is urgent.” Monty’s slightly panicked voice yanks Lexa alert from her groggy state. After another scan of the area she closes the door to the casting room and adjusts the small radio in her ear. 

“Monty what’s going on?”

“Lexa, we’ve got to figure out a better way to stay in contact, these delays are not going to work.”

“I know how to run an op, just give me the damn update, that’s your job.” Her irritation leads to an overly firm response. She understands her job, she realizes what to do, and she comprehends the importance of communicating with her handler, she does not need a lecture, especially from someone who has never even been in the field. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, it’s just, more cameras have been blacked out. Whoever is doing this knows this hospital, they know the blind spots in the security cameras. This is not a tech person, Lexa, it’s not remote access, this person is getting within an arm reach of the camera and spraying something over the lens. From the texture it looks like something tacky, like a sealant or foaming caulking or something, it’s weird Lexa. It’s not a material you’d plan to use, it’s a material of convenience, but the person’s ability to navigate around the camera indicates a planned approach.”

“Monty, how much access do you have to Hopkins records, patient files specifically?”

“With permission, just to the server with your file on a strictly navigated path, so basically nothing.”

“Does Indra know about the cameras? And how much access can you get and how quickly can you get it?”

“She knows about the parking garage cameras only. In a few seconds I can access all of it, but you and I both know Indra will be pissed if she finds out, we told her you wouldn’t interfere.”

“I know, but this is spreading, I’ll find her and update her but first access the patient charts from last night till this morning. Look for a patient admitted in the E.R. with burns, find out his father’s info on the chart.” Lexa appreciates that her direction to Monty will upset Indra as she does not like being pushed into the backseat while someone else dictates actions regarding the safety of her people. She’ll find Indra and explain things to her. Lexa paces the casting room waiting for Monty to come back with information. 

“Okay, I’m in. I have three with burns, one looks like child abuse, child admitted with several cigar burns on her legs, arms, and stomach; another was burned when she dropped a pot of boiling water on herself; and the third was due to fireworks.”

“That one, the last one. The patient was a male, so it must be the last one.”

“Got it, patient name is Skyler Moore, father is Richard Moore. Parents are divorced, there’s no contact information for the mother just a name Kathleen. Father is a plumber, works for Roto-Rooter. Father’s medical record shows he’s been brought in by the police a couple of times for a blood alcohol analysis. The mother has a patient file, shows she’s had treatment for a broken nose, broken ribs, bruised jaw, fractured wrist, it’s a real train wreck. The hospital staff reported that they thought domestic abuse, but the patient would not confirm.”

“Stop, go back. Did you say the father was a plumber, like someone who might have access to an adhesive or foaming spray to fix pipes? With as often as his wife seemed to be here it’s possible he could have some understanding of the camera’s pathways.”

“I’ll do some more digging into this guy. He definitely reads as violent.”

“Do that. Now, tell me more about the cameras we’ve lost.” Lexa must know where this man has been, so she can best protect Clarke.

“All cameras in the parking garage are out. The cameras on the exterior of the emergency room are out. Cameras throughout the emergency room are out. Cameras by the patient waiting rooms and locker rooms are out. Two of the elevator’s cameras are out. Cameras are out throughout several corridors, Zayed Tower is pretty much all out, Lexa, there’s no rhyme or reason to this, it’s like the person is just randomly walking throughout the hospital blackening out cameras. It’s not really isolated; though the emergency room department and surrounding areas are the most impacted.”

“Are any cameras blacked out in or near the burn unit or pediatrics?”

“The burn unit is clear, but pediatrics is pretty much all out. The path from Zayed Tower to the pediatrics wing is all dark. The camera on the nurse’s station is good but the patient hallway is out. Lexa, what are you thinking?”

“This Richard Moore guy threatened Clarke today, the areas you’re mentioning, except for the outside cameras is where Clarke and I walked today. Earlier she had a page up to pediatrics. This guy is after her, we have to protect her.”

“Wait, Clarke? Are you talking about Clarke Griffin your…”

“Yes” Lexa cut Monty’s words short as she realizes she has no idea where Clarke is, “Monty, I lost her! She had a patient come in, in an ambulance, she put me in a side room, and I lost her where is she?”

“Her cellphone tracking shows she’s in the locker room.”

“You mean in the area where all the fucking cameras are out?”

“Shit! Lexa, are you close?”

“I’m already on my way.”

Lexa yanks the door to the casting room open and sprints towards the locker room.

“Whoa speed racer, no need to run through an empty hospital unless you’re aiming for another injury you’ll refuse to explain to your doctors.” Wells shouts after Lexa, he finds her to be infuriating, she finds him to be a pompous ass. 

Lexa offers no response to Wells, as much as she wants to downsize his ego Clarke’s safety is her utmost concern at this moment, she’ll have to deal with him later. 

As she rounds the corner to the hallway with the door to the locker room, she pauses briefly and removes the small handgun from the holster attached to her ankle. The loose pant material, which flared only slightly on the lower leg, perfectly conceals her holstered firearm. She takes a deep breath and slowly pushes the door open. Using the door to guard her back she turns to the right, pointing her firearm in the same direction. 

The room is dimly lit, the black leather couch sits empty in the corner, showing years of wear and tear. Near the couch is an old table with a few chairs, against the far wall rests a fridge and a microwave is placed on the counter. Nothing seems odd. She scans from right to left, noticing some locker doors are open. 

A black duffle bag is placed on a small wooden bench. Lexa walks towards the bag and examines its contents. She shifts a shirt to the side revealing Clarke’s hospital security badge. Clarke’s phone is on the bench and is lit up as if recently used. She picks up the phone, her thin fingers stuck to the back, she places the phone down and tries to wipe the tacky substance onto her pants. As she walks past the open lockers, she notices the contents were shuffled about and several of the lockers appear to have a similar tacky substance on them.

Lexa continues her search of the locker room as she hears a shower running. Lexa quietly pushes open the shower room door, again using the heavy wooden door to cover her back. Steam fills the area. She looks to the right. A large mirror filled a portion of the wall, with a row of sinks below it. Messaged on the steamed glass are the words, “You’re Mine” condensation streaks down the mirror from the hastily written lettering. 

Lexa turns on her heels scanning the room. No one else appears to be in the room. She walks down the small isle of showers. The only shower in use is the last shower on the left. She quietly checks each shower stale as she walks down the aisle. Each stale is as empty as the last, its curtain pulled to one side revealing the vacant shower area. When she reaches the final stale, she sees the curtain is pulled across the area, concealing anyone who may be within. 

Lexa bends cautiously and confirms only one person is in the shower. She lets out a breath she had been unknowingly holding in, Clarke is safe, but someone else has definitely been here. Lexa steps away from the shower and catches a momentary glimpse of Clarke through the small crack between the curtain and the shower stale wall, she quickly turns away and walks towards the mirror.

Her heart races, while her glimpse was mere seconds and completely unintentional the image is etched into her mind. Clarke’s soft curves contrast against the sharpness of her hip bones. Lexa can’t shake the image of water racing along the lush curves of Clarke’s breasts, how the water danced down her back and rolled over her perfectly round ass. Swallowing hard, Lexa tries to erase the image from her mind. Lexa wipes the message from the mirror hoping the steam would fill in the space before Clarke steps out of the shower. Lexa wants to spare Clarke from the worry of harm until she knows exactly the risk they are facing. 

As she walks back through the locker room, she closes the open lockers noting each number as she goes. She scans the area once more assuring no one else is in the locker room. She holsters her gun and steps out of the locker room and right into Indra. “Fuck” is her only thought.

“Lexa, what were you doing in the doctor’s locker room?” Indra appears uneasy to see Lexa lurking about in her hospital. “Come with me.” This is not a question, or even a statement, it is most certainly a command. It has been quite a while since Lexa received a command from Indra. However, she does not question Indra, this is a conversation she’s been needing to have soon or later, she just hoped it would be later. 

Indra walks into an empty room, Lexa follows without question. “Now Lexa, what’s going on?”

“Indra, I know you have questions but just give me one second.” “Monty, you there?” Indra glares at Lexa in frustration, she wants answers and doesn’t have time to wait for this conversation “Listen Lexa…”

“Lexa I’m here, what’s up?” Lexa raises her hand to silence Indra, an action her former Master Sergeant fails to appreciate.

“Monty, do you have any cameras with a line of sight on the doctor’s locker room?”

“What! Why do you have your handler accessing my security feeds?” Again, Lexa raises her hand to silence the older woman. 

“Lexa, she sounds pissed, good luck. I don’t have a camera with a direct line, but I can turn the angle on the one by the nurse’s station just enough to catch a reflection of the door on the elevator.”

“Good, do that. Let me know if anyone goes in there and when Clarke comes out you keep her in your sight until I’m back with her. Also, see if you can track the camera outages, pull them all up, as soon as you see one go out let me know so I can get there.”

“Copy that. I have visual on the locker room door, no activity at this time.”

“Monty, if she’s not out in fifteen minutes let me know.”

“Will do.”

“Enough Lexa, it’s time to tell me what’s going on? Why are you here? Is the agency investigating my referral?”

“Indra, I’m sorry you’ve been left in the dark, this was not intended. As to what’s going on, I don’t know exactly. What I do know is that a patient’s father, Richard Moore, threatened Clarke this morning, he’s escaped police custody, an officer’s firearm is missing, and someone with knowledge of this hospital’s security cameras is navigating through this hospital and blackening out security cameras with some type of adhesive spray. There’s a sticky substance on Clarke’s phone, on several lockers, which have been searched, those lockers are one, seven, nine, twenty, twenty-seven, thirty-nine, and forty-three. There was also a message ‘You’re Mine’ on the mirror in the locker room, someone is after Clarke and there’s a violent massively large man missing who may be armed and previously threatened her. I came here for treatment, I stayed because she asked me too and I had nothing better to do, as for your referral, you know I can’t answer that, and you know you can’t ask me about agency matters.”

“Fuck. And all of this has to happen when there is a blizzard and when I have an unguarded Saudi Arabian prince in the hospital. Lexa I cannot have this get out to the media. Whatever happens here, during this lockdown, I need to keep this under wraps, can the agency help?”

“You know whatever I do, the agency cleans up. Let me take the reins, focus your team on security for the prince and whatever happens to this person threatening Clarke, will get quietly cleaned up.” 

“Lexa you were always one of my best, I trust you with my life and the life of my squad hundreds of time, please don’t let this be the time I misplace my trust. And Lexa, if you have any alternative objectives when it comes to Clarke Griffin you better come clean, she’s an impeccable doctor, one of the best leaders I’ve ever met. She has a world of potential, do not compromise her for your own selfish gains.”

“Indra my duty comes first, you know that. I promise you I have no ill will or intentions when it comes to Clarke Griffin.” Lexa can’t help but feel insulted, Indra always challenges Lexa to see her response, to validate the truth of her words. 

“Monty, I want more information, more details, I want to know everything about Richard Moore, and I want it in an hour. Indra has an unguarded Saudi Arabian prince in the hospital, reach out to intel find out if there is anything I need to be concerned about, have them search,” Lexa pushes, looking at Indra to give her additional information, “Saed Ahmed” Indra tells Lexa with a bit of hesitancy, “his name is Saed Ahmed. Details Monty, get them. I’ll contact you in an hour.”

“Indra I’m only trying to help, you can help me, or you can interfere, that decision is yours. I recommend you let me help.”

“Share any intel you get about Ahmed; this is a PR nightmare and a safety issue for this hospital. As for Moore, deal with him however you deem worthy, just don’t damage my hospital and make sure my people stay safe.”

Lexa offers only a nod in agreement as she walks out of the room, for now she needs to be with Clarke. She must make sure Clarke’s safe. Lexa turns down the hallway, walking towards the locker room, “Monty, has she left the locker room?”

“No one has gone in or out of that locker room.”

“Thank you.” Lexa’s fire has been lit, there are no pleasantries, she’s all about business now.

Lexa continues her march towards the locker room, her anger fuming and unwavering, she will not allow anything to happen to Clarke Griffin. A loud crash sounds down the hall to the nurse’s station in the emergency room, she turns towards the sound as she continues to walk backwards. The maintenance man, presumably just finishing his mopping of the emergency room floor, had crashed into a metal tray. 

Knowing there’s no risk of threat from the direction the sound came, Lexa turns to face down the hallway and immediately walks into Clarke. Her skin with still damp from her shower, the subtle smell of coconut wafting from her golden wavy locks, her breath grazes Lexa’s neck as their bodies collide. Lexa catches a hold of Clarke before she falls to the ground, she did not realize she’d been walking with such force. Once she steadies Clarke back on her feet, Lexa grips at her arm as the pain radiates. 

“Lexa, are you okay? How’s your arm? We never filled your prescription, that means you haven’t had pain medication for hours you have to be in pain, I’m sorry I lapsed on treating you.”

Lexa is staring into Clarke’s deep blue eyes, the vision of Clarke showering entering her mind once again, her heart races as Clarke’s lips move, forming words Lexa is not hearing. “Clarke, umm. How was your shower?”

“Let’s go get you some medicine, my shower was fine.” Clarke smiles at Lexa’s seemingly absent-minded state. She takes her right hand and pulls her gently in the direction of the hospital pharmacy. Clarke’s shower must have relaxed her as she pulls Lexa considerably closer than a doctor would normally be with a patient. Lexa leans into Clarke’s soft grasp, she feels comforted, for some odd reason she feels safe next to Clarke, a feeling she’s never experienced. 

“Lexa, cameras are going down, outside the security office.” Lexa jolts alert at Monty’s statement. She rakes her memory, she’s aware that the security office is near the pharmacy, only a few halls over. She should investigate but will not risk taking Clarke to the same area the maniac may be, but she also can’t leave her alone. 

“Clarke, show me around the hospital, let’s go this way, only a slight detour?” Lexa coyly smiles at Clarke, hoping the playful smile convinces her to detour. 

“You know Lexa; I think you know a bit more about this hospital than you lead onto. But sure, I’ll amuse your request, a detour it is, where would you like to go?”

Lexa reveals some of her hand, but it’s necessary to protect Clarke, now she must conceive a cover. “I’ve been here a few times; I’ve had irritating doctors and have wandered the halls to escape their leering. And quite honestly, I like time with you, so this time instead of wandering the halls to escape a doctor’s leering, I want to wander the halls with a doctor I’d like to leer at.” 

Her checks instantly pink at her statement, as the vision of Clarke showering enters her mind once again, she wishes this was not the way she’d first witnessed Clarke naked. She shakes her head at the thought that there are other ways she wants to see Clarke naked, “what was wrong with her” seems to repeat in her mind, nearly as often as the image of Clarke showering.

“Let’s go this way” Lexa directs Clarke down the hallway leading to the security office. Lexa stares at a security camera as she walks by, the lens is clear, “so what’s down this hallway?” Lexa asks the question a bit louder than she intended, in hopes that Monty will get the hint.

“Lexa, no more cameras have gone down. It’s been a few minutes since the last camera went out, I’m not sure if Moore is still down the hallway. The cameras in your hallway are clear. The cameras to the east of the security office are clear, everything to the west seems to be blacked out.”

“Clarke, what is your favorite part of the hospital?” Lexa inquires as they continue to walk towards the blackout zone. 

“Hmmm, well I think my favorite part right now would be the pharmacy so I can get my favorite former patient some much needed pain medication.”

“Lexa, you’re entering the blackout zone, I no longer have visual on you.” Monty informs Lexa with a hint of concern.

“Noted.” Lexa’s intends her response for Monty but hopes Clarke will not find the response too odd. “So, what’s the best way to the pharmacy without going back the way we came? I want to see something new.” Lexa’s extensive studying tells her what the best path will be right past the security office, she chances Clarke will take the same route.

“If we walk this way it’s nearly a straight shot to the pharmacy. Tell me Lexa, how is it that you are so familiar with this hospital. I completed med school at Hopkins, it took me two years to learn these hallways, and still sometimes I find myself lost in the old hallways. And yet you claim to have learned your way around because you’ve been a patient here a few times, I don’t buy it. When we came back to the emergency room tonight you led me, I intentionally stayed three steps behind you, you guided us back to the emergency room from Zayed Tower, you took a route different than the route I used to take us there and you took the fastest route possible. You know at first I thought you were maybe the victim of a violent relationship, something domestic, now, I’m convinced you are in a line of work that puts you in danger.”

Lexa continues to walk down the hallway, scanning the area for Moore, trying to figure out how to escape Clarke’s spot-on analysis. Her observational skills are impeccable, her ability to read people is better than any trained agent she has ever met, Clarke is made for this. 

“Clarke, there is a time and place for everything, now is not the time or place for this discussion. I promise you, when the timing is better, I’ll answers your questions as much as possible.” Lexa cannot talk herself out of this situation, nor does she want to try. There’s something about Clarke, she desires to tell her the truth. 

“Lexa, you know you can’t reveal your identity, you can’t tell Clarke anything about your assignment, your purpose for being in that hospital.”

“I know that” Lexa responds to Monty irritated at him once again for telling her what her job is, “may not sit well with you right now, but I’m asking you to trust me.” Lexa covers her random outburst.

“I don’t know why, to be honest, but I do, I do trust you Lexa. Today I watched as you let me treat other patients while you sat and waited. I listened to you console a woman you didn’t know, to tell her she honored her husband’s memory. You owed her nothing, you owe me nothing and yet, here you are. I trust you Lexa, and when you’re ready you can tell me whatever you’re willing to tell me.”

Beyond Lexa’s control a smile graces her face at Clarke’s words, her observations. A sudden sneeze from behind a closed-door rips Lexa from her Clarke entrancement. She pushes Clarke against a wall, “Clarke, stay here, do not move, I’ll be right back.” While Lexa is not permitted to tell Clarke who she is nor what she does, but she must ensure Moore is contained and Clarke remains safe. Lexa reaches for her ankle and removes her firearm. Clarke observes Lexa, analyzing every motion, intrigued by the woman’s tactical approach of the door.

Lexa pulls open the door stretching her hand inside the door to flip on the light switch only to discover two interns, in a precarious situation. The man’s once erect penis slaps limply against his thigh at the sight of Lexa’s gun. Lexa rolls her eyes, flips off the light and shuts the door. She holsters her gun and busts out in laughter. An inquisitive Clarke cocks her head to the side, trying to figure out how Lexa had gone from focused intensity to comedy club attendee. 

“Lexa I’m going to move away from this wall, and come towards you, you need to tell me if you are against this decision.” Lexa’s laughter continues as Clarke saunters towards her. “Care to explain what just happened in there? I’m assuming the gun wasn’t necessary.” 

“Oh, it was necessary.” Lexa offers no further explanation. Clarke, no longer able to contain her curiosity, opens the door discovering the interns sitting on the hospital bed, the girl frantically trying to help firm up the downed cowboy. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. But, have a little decency this is a hospital not a motel.” Clarke closes the door and looks to Lexa. 

In a whispering voice she asks, “did you cause the…drooping?” Both burst out in renewed laughter. Clarke stretches out her arm to help Lexa resume a standing position. “Come on, let’s go get your pain meds.” 

“All clear. I mean, yes…. let’s go get some pain medication.”

While Clarke and Lexa continue their venture to the pharmacy a radio call comes in to the emergency room, ““Hopkins E.R. ambulance ETA five minutes, one DOA, one with advanced hypothermia, two suffering from moderate hypothermia, copy?” With no response the fatigued voice tries again, “Hopkins E.R. ambulance ETA five minutes, one DOA, one with advanced hypothermia, two suffering from moderate hypothermia, copy?”

Wells rushes to the emergency room radio to provide an answer to the repeated call, “This is the Johns Hopkins emergency room, affirmative on ETA five minutes.” 

Wells places the radio down and scans for Clarke, once again he returns to paging the woman, “it’s a good thing I came back, since I’m the only person staying in the department.” He grumbles to himself.

“Dr. Griffin to the emergency room, inbound patients. Emergency room nursing staff please report to the emergency room, inbound patients. Dr. Marshall to the emergency room, inbound patients. All available interns to the emergency room.” Before Wells completes his page, three nurses arrive to the department. 

“Cheryl, get warming blankets, we have three patients with hypothermia coming in. Karen, open up trauma rooms one, two, and three, let’s keep them close together so we can help one another, we are too short staff to be handling three urgent cases at once. Stephanie, get someone from the morgue up here, looks like we already have a fatality from this storm. I have a feeling this will not be the first one.”

As interns and nurses arrive Wells directs them to trauma rooms and distributes tasks among them. He assumes the more preparation he conducts the faster they will be able to treat the patients. He checks his watch, two minutes, he looks around wondering why Clarke has not yet arrived.

Clarke hears the page while filling Lexa’s prescription, she quickly thanks the pharmacist and turns back towards the emergency room. 

“Lexa come in.” Monty’s voice is unyielding; Lexa recognizes this as his “this is urgent” voice, his “do not dare ignore this” voice.

With Clarke standing next to her pulling her back towards the emergency room, the one area of the hospital Lexa wishes to keep Clarke away from, especially when she’s been directed there, telling Moore exactly where she will be. She has to respond to Monty, which means she’ll have to explain a bit more to Clarke.

“What is it?” Lexa asks the generic question. Clarke stares at her with confusion, she knows Lexa saw the prescription and that this particular medication had been prescribed to her. “The pain medicine? It’s Tylenol three with codeine, I saw in your record that you didn’t like opioids and that this had been prescribed before, so I stayed with this pain medication.”   
Lexa does not hear a word of what Clarke is saying, her focus is on Monty, “Lexa, there were groups of people rushing to the emergency room, but I caught a glimpse of something, or someone. I’m trying to refocus the image, make it sharper, it was from the camera pointed towards the elevators, the image is a reflection in the elevator door. The image looks like a man with a gun, but the man does not seem to meet the physical attributes of Moore, the image is distorted, I can’t be certain. I lost the man, but he is somewhere near the emergency room, and I’m nearly certain he’s armed.”

“Noted” is Lexa’s only reply to Monty. She needs to think fast she must keep Clarke away from the emergency room, she will not risk walking her into this, it feels too much like a trap.

“Lexa are you okay?” Clarke examines the woman standing next to her, she stops walking to really look at her, something is wrong, and she will figure it out. “Lexa, what’s wrong?” While she must get to the emergency room, she still has a bit of time before the ambulance will likely arrive. 

“Clarke, you can’t go to the emergency room, it’s not safe, you need to come with me, it’s essential we go somewhere safer.” Lexa offers no further explanation she just needs Clarke to trust her on this one. 

“Lexa, this is my job, those patients are my responsibility. They need my help; I can’t turn my back on them. Do you care to explain to me why you feel the emergency room is not safe?”

“Lexa don’t blow your cover” Monty warns. Lexa’s torn, she can’t give away her identity, but she also can’t risk Clarke’s safety.

“Clarke, have you forgotten about that cop? She arrested a man who threatened you, that man escaped her custody, and her service weapon is missing, he knows your name, he knows you’re an E.R. doctor, he could be waiting to hurt you, you have to stay away.” 

“Lexa, Octavia, I mean Officer Blake, has searched the area around her patrol car, she has another service weapon, she keeps an extra in the trunk of her patrol car. She’s met with Indra and is patrolling the hospital. She is looking for him, and is well aware of the threat he poses, she will find him there is no need to worry.” Clarke turns from Lexa and begins to walk back towards the emergency room.

Lexa stands for a moment, she’s not accustomed to being ignored, to having her concerns pushed aside. “Clarke there’s more, someone is in the hospital taking out the security cameras, look here,” Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pulls her towards a camera she knew had been sprayed with adhesive “look at the camera, do you see the weird substance on the lens, it’s some type of adhesive spray. Several of the cameras are coated in this material. This same substance is on your cellphone, it was on lockers in the locker room, and someone wrote a message in the steam on the mirror in the shower area. Clarke, Moore, is after you, you cannot go to the E.R., it’s not safe.” Lexa is near pleading with Clarke, she’s revealed nearly all of her cards, necessary for her to win this battle. 

“Wait, did you go through my things? Who do you work for, are you a spy for Indra or something? How did you know the man’s last name? Look Lexa,” Clarke walks up on Lexa, the taller girl stepping back until she feels her back press against a wall, “I don’t know who you are, or what your angle is, but these are my patients, my responsibilities and I will not walk away from them. You should find Kane; he can tell you where you can spend your time while you ride out the storm. Stay away from my things, I can’t believe you went through my stuff, maybe the sticky substance came from you touching it.”

Clarke whirls away from Lexa, blonde hair twisting in the air as she stomps away. Her blood is boiling, Finn would do this to her, he would search her possessions, go through her phone, try to stop her from upholding her responsibilities. She will not deal with another person doing the same thing. While she feels her anger rising, she also feels a pain of disappointment, and stinging of her eyes.

Lexa stands against the wall stiff; a hot tear rolls down her cheek. Reaching up she wipes away the single tear, unsure if its presence is from her frustration or the sting of Clarke’s words. She wants to explain herself to Clarke but explaining more will instantly risk exposing who she is; nonetheless she must try. She chases after Clarke; she can’t let this happen.

“Clarke, please listen to me.”

“Not now Lexa.” Too angry to speak, Clarke continues her march towards the emergency room.


	7. Treat and Protect

Resisting the urge to follow the now infuriated doctor, Lexa stands silently as Clarke’s blonde hair swishes through the air, leaving her holding a bottle of medication and fear of an impending attack. Perhaps, she ponders, the sheer volume of people now running towards the emergency room will deter Moore, “if he was going through all the trouble of taking out cameras and hiding surely he won’t storm into a now busy emergency room,” She reasons with herself, pleading Moore agrees with her logic. 

With Clarke out of sight, Lexa radios Monty, “Well this could be going better, wouldn’t you say?” She bemoans her current setback. 

“You just need to James Bond the good ole doc. Lure her in with your sexual prowess and then she’ll be eating out of your hand.” Monty’s infatuation with old spy movies certainly taints his view of the real world. 

“Well send me over a box of candles, mood lighting, and an irresistibly romantic setting and I’ll get to work on that; or we can venture back to the real world and deal with the situation at hand. First, use that camera you have available in the emergency room and keep it focused on Clarke, if you see anything out of place let me know and I will take care of it. Second, have you informed anyone at the agency of our little situation?”

“Will do on the camera. I’ve not told anyone about the situation, I’m not exactly sure who to tell or what to tell them.”

“Thank you. And that is a valid point. Let me do some reconnaissance and we’ll figure this out together. Any details back from intel regarding the Saudi Arabian Prince?”

“Not much, all I know right now is there are actually two princes in the country. Prince Ayman Ahmed is here as well. Prince Ayman is the younger brother of Prince Saed. Saed is the next in line to take the throne. The brothers are the only leadership eligible members remaining in the Ahmed bloodline. If anything happens to them, the right to rule passes to the Shammari family. Prince Saed is the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, he will become King upon the death of King Bashari. If anything happens to Prince Saed, then Prince Ayman becomes the Crown Prince. There are no known immediate threats made against the Ahmed family, but there are plenty of actors who could gain from a disruption in leadership, and Prince Saed has not made many friends since being designated as the Crown Prince. I’ll continue looking into it. I mentioned the situation about the prince being unguarded to Anya, she wants you to stay in the man’s range until he is on his plane leaving this country, she says we can’t risk diplomatic tensions. She also assigned Raven to tail Prince Ayman. Anya wants both to remain under surveillance until they leave the U.S., which brings me to the ‘Raven says she hates you and will cut you when she sees you’ part. She’s sitting on a rooftop in D.C. watching the embassy and it’s snowing like crazy.”

“Noted. I’ll talk to Indra about this, but tap into the hospital records, get me the details on Saed, focus cameras on his room and hall, let me know if there are any issues, or things out of place. And patch our radios into one channel, we need to be able to share intel, and then Raven can threaten me to my face, so to speak, rather than relaying them through you, if she so dares.”

“You know what Lexa, I’m going to make sure Anya assigns you like the next five Russian assignments, this is bullshit I’m freezing my metaphorical balls off, and the guy is in a secure embassy.” Raven whines through chattering teeth. 

“Come on Raven, it’s not that bad,” Lexa lies in an effort to calm Raven, “Plus do you remember that North Korean delegate, he was in a secure embassy as well, and that didn’t stop you from retrieving intel, turning the guy by threatening to blow him up, and then implanting one of your cleverly designed tracking devices into him.” When deceit fails, the reliable backup is to compliment. Lexa attempts to inflate the other agent’s ego perhaps it’ll warm her just enough to dim the sound of her chattering teeth. 

“Lexa you do know how to talk to the ladies.” Raven replies in a flirtatiously sarcastic way.

“Not all the ladies,” Monty chimes in, he always struggles to remain serious when tension cloud the air.

“Monty, you will need to explain that comment to me later, because Lexa failing to sweet talk someone is something I must have in my life. And Lexa, you keep your prince safe and I’ll keep this one safe and soon we’ll load them both onto a plane and out of our worries.”

“She needs to keep her prince and princess safe, aye Lexa.” Jeering Lexa brings Monty sheer delight.

Lexa’s delays her response as she mulls over the idea of sweet talking, of swooning Clarke. She’s only trying to protect her, she hadn’t tried to swoon her, had she? She can’t deny that the idea did have a tempting appeal, maybe Monty’s obsession with Bond wasn’t all that bad. 

“You’re funny Monty, I need to play this one carefully, I told Indra, she’s Head of Security, to guard the prince. There’s also a deranged lunatic in the hospital after a doctor here. He’s been taking out security cameras, which is not a helping the situation, especially on top of this blizzard, so things are a bit complicated here Raven, you still wanting to trade spots.”

“You know; my rooftop isn’t looking so bad now. And by Indra, are you talking about your former Master Sarge Indra? The woman who reveled being in control, who fought military regs to carry a bayonet into Special Forces’ assignments because she liked to run a steel blade into those trying to kill her?” Raven let out a not so subtle laugh, “Please tell me it’s that Indra. Good fucking luck Lexa, you’re going to need it. Now about this deranged lunatic, do you think he could be a ploy, that it all could be a ploy? Maybe the doctor isn’t the target, maybe it’s a setup, maybe he’s there to take out the prince?”

“Thanks, and no. He’s not after the prince, he’s after Clarke. The guy was about to beat his son and she defended the kid. She threw him to the floor in a truly embarrassing fashion, he’s after her not the prince.”

“Clarke? Not doctor? There’s something more about this situation, I want details when this is over. So, why would this guy be taking out cameras? What’s the motive?”

“I don’t know Raven, but I can’t let anything happen to Clarke. Her possessions have been searched; he wrote ‘You’re Mine’ on a bathroom mirror while she was showering; there’s a very real risk to her.”

“Sounds steamy. Lexa these don’t sound like something an embarrassed or vengeful guy would do; honestly, most of it sounds like something a scorned lover would do. Have you checked that angle? Why do you think it’s this Moore guy, could someone be setting him up?”

“Shit! You’re right Raven. I’ve been so distracted with Moore that I didn’t think about another person. But Moore escaped police custody, if it’s not him, where is he? I need to talk to Clarke, and Indra. Let’s get drinks after this assignment, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.” Lexa thought talking to Raven and Monty would clear some things up, unfortunately it they only raised more questions.

“Monty” 

“Sure yeah, I’d love to have drinks.”

“What? No, I need you to stay on intel, get us details on the prince situation, and I want details on Moore. I’ll check back soon.”

“Noted.” Monty slumps back in his chair, for once he thought the agents were finally including him in the unofficial post-op debriefing. Since the com channels are now open, he mutes his mic and presses play on his James Bond movie, at least here he feels more like a part of the action.

Lexa ventures further down the hospital corridor uncertain of what her next step will be; time, she needs a minute to stop and think. She approaches a seemingly empty patient room; with a soft knock she opens the door. A man lays in the bed, his white coat and stethoscope hanging over a chair in the room. “Oh, sorry I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” She does not intend to disturb a resting doctor, with the hospital locked down there’s likely little sleep to be had by the skeletal staff that remains. 

The man sits up rubbing his eyes, his dark shaggy hair is tousled and matted, his skin moist and slightly flush in color. “No, it’s fine. I actually need to be getting back to work. You’re a better alarm clock than this old broken watch.” The man points to his analog watch, its appearance is basic enough, a black face with sliver casing. Lexa assumes it must have some sentimental value as it has absolutely no monetary value. The only other available option is that the man is too cheap to fix or replace the old watch. 

The man stands from the bed and stretches, his knuckles are bruised and a few of them are split open, seeping blood. “Are you a boxer, box in your free time?” Lexa inquires while pointing at the man’s injured hands. 

“What” the man gazes from Lexa to his hands, “Oh, umm, yeah. It’s a recently acquired hobby so to speak, sometimes you just need to punch something.” He retorts with a cautious laugh. 

“Agreed. I could use a punching bag right now.”

“Rough day?” The man asks while pointing to Lexa’s bandaged left arm.

“You could say that.” Lexa rubs her arm acknowledging the man’s probing gesture.

“Well I have to get back to it.” The man slips on his white coat and loops his stethoscope around his neck. 

“Nice to meet you Doctor Wright.”

“I’m sorry.” The man responds.

Lexa motions across the left side of her chest, “Your jacket, it has your name.”

“Oh right, of course.” He quickly responds as he walks out of the room while adjusting his jacket.

The odd encounter with this random man leaves Lexa contemplating. She lowers the lights in the room and sits cross legged on the floor; she closes her eyes as she inhales a deep breath. Time to clear her head, time to think of past experiences to help guide her through this one.

Lexa’s mind relaxes, while Clarke’s prepares to jump into action. 

Clarke arrives to the seemingly well-staffed emergency room; considering the lockdown it’s refreshing to see an additional doctor and multiple nurses. People are standing around, there are no patients, everyone is just waiting for something to do, for someone to help. I.V. bags hang waiting for patients to save, warming blankets are resting on trays outside each trauma room. Everything is ready, everyone is ready, but where are the patients?

Wells leans against the admission’s desk; he stands upright as Clarke approaches him. “It’s going to be a long night, are you ready for this?”

“Am I ready, are you ready? How much sleep have you had in the last fifty-six hours?”

“Not enough” he confesses. Sleep is scarce during a forty-eight-hour shift, and since he returned to the hospital shortly after leaving from his shift, he’s had little opportunity to sleep.

“Where’s the ambulance? Are you sure they were coming here and not Mercy or UMD?”

“Clarke, my father’s a cop, I’ve been listening to and playing with radios since I was like two, do you really think I would mishear or fail to understand a dispatch?” For the first time in their friendship Wells provides a sharp response bathed in sarcasm. 

Clarke deserves his pointed response as she’s always so curt with Wells when he questions her abilities or knowledge base. “Fair enough, what was the dispatch ETA? When did the dispatch come in?”

“ETA was five minutes” Not realizing how much time has passed Wells checks his watch, “which was eighteen minutes ago.” It’s been too long, Wells picks up the radio, requesting a status update, “Jackson come in, what’s your ETA?”

“About a minute or so, I can see the entrance, this ambulance is sliding everywhere, I’m worried it’s going to get stuck, every time it slides it gets a little more difficult to move it forward.” Bellamy chimes in, Jackson is far too busy with the casualties to respond.

“Wells, this storm is awful, if it’s taken them eighteen minutes when it should’ve been five who knows how long it took them to get to the patients, and how long they’ve been driving before radioing in the call. We need to do something.” Clarke jogs towards the entrance, which sends everyone else into motion. 

She reaches up unlocking the sliding doors, with Wells assistance they pull the doors open. Through the blowing and falling snow, they can see the headlights of the ambulance down the road, its flashing lights dancing across the night sky. The ambulance slowly trudges through the deepening snow; it can be no more than fifty yards. The snow’s been falling for nine hours, large drifts litter the roadside as a result of the falling snow and strong winds. 

“Wells, they’re not going to make it, we need to help.”

“I know, let’s try to push it here, if they get stuck, we’ll have to carry the patients here, we should have enough people.”

Wells and Clarke begin to walk towards the ambulance with each step their legs bury knee deep into the snow. High knees and long strides seem to be key in managing the depth of the snow; others follow understanding the situation caused by the storm. Within a minute or so they’ve reached the ambulance, the ambulance has barely moved. 

Bellamy lowers the ambulance window, “what’s the plan docs” he yells over the roaring engine and hollowing storm.

“Steer the ambulance towards the patient unloading area, under the awning, we’ll push, if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to abandon the ambulance and carry the them inside.” Clarke strains her voice trying to be louder than the ambient sounds. 

“Sounds good, but let me push Clarke, you can get in and drive.” Wells sneakers at Bellamy’s error, for as long as they’ve known one another, he should know better than this. Clarke often rants to Wells about how irritating Bellamy’s big brothering of Octavia is, how it’s demeaning; even though it is often unintended and aggravatingly unrecognized, the thoughtlessness of it may be more exasperating than if it were intentional.   
“Bellamy I’m more than capable of pushing, just drive the damn ambulance.” Wells allows a smirk to grace his face, he refuses to resist it, he loves being right and watching Bellamy take one on the chin, “what a dumbass” is his only thought.

The group of doctors, nurses, and staff, ten in all, surround the rear of the ambulance and begin pushing it towards the hospital. The process is slow and exhausting but it’s still the best option considering the circumstances. A few more feet they’ll be under the cover of the structural awning, everyone gives all of their feet, just a bit further and they’ll finally be able to unload the patients.

Wells digs his heels in and tightens his grip on the wet bumper of the ambulance, one final push will do it. As the ambulance begins to move his foot slips, his hand slides from the bumper. His left forearm catches the rounded edge of the metal bumper, gashing his arm open; his knee crashes hard against the ground, the blanket of snow offers no cushioning support. The blood running down his arm tickles his skin; while the swelling in his knee is palpable as its rapidly increasing temperature. Blood drips from his fingers tips as he limply stands, he opts to not look at his arm, rather he returns to the ambulance to finish helping push it to its final destination. 

Bellamy turns off the engine and bounces out of the driver’s seat, eager to finally be allowed to help, like the hero he believes he is. As he jaunts to the back of the ambulance, he discovers the crimson stained snow, “What the fuck happened to you?” 

Clarke glances towards Bellamy, instantly spotting the blood dripping from Wells arm. “Wells, what happened, are you going to need stitches? How bad is it, let me see?”

“I’m fine, I’ll go bandage it, you stay here, help them and I’ll be ready in a minute.” Wells limps towards the hospital, keeping his arm in the air, trying to slow the flow of blood. Clarke curiously observes noting to herself to make sure she checks on Wells; she’ll verify later that there is nothing more to his limping. 

As Clarke and Bellamy open the rear ambulance door, they are instantly blasted with the warmth of a heatwave emitting from the ambulance. Jackson half stands to help a frail, nearly unconscious woman into the arms of a waiting nurse. The woman struggles to stand resulting in the burley nurse carrying the woman to the waiting stretcher just inside the door. There’s no reason to make her try to walk through the deep snow.

Sweat pours from Jackson’s face, “She’s suffering from exposure and likely moderate hypothermia,” the back of the ambulance is sweltering.

With a loud bang the passenger door slams against the side of the ambulance. Ugueth stumbles from the ambulance, “Is this Johns Hopkins?” His speech is slurred, and his heavy Spanish accent makes it difficult to understand him. Clarke moves towards the man, his body movements are clumsy, he’s clearly disoriented.

“Help him into the hospital, put him in trauma three. Get me rectal temperatures on all of them. We need to know what level of hypothermia we’re dealing with here.” Clarke barks orders at the remaining team. 

Clarke returns to Jackson, “Okay, and what happened to him” she asks while pulling on the gurney.

“He went into the water, he’s fading fast, was essentially unconscious when we reached him.”

“They were in the water? What the hell were people doing out in the water?” Clarke checks the man’s pupils as the team carries the gurney into the hospital. Miguel’s dilated eyes stare back at her blankly. His pulse is non-existent, it appears that no breaths escape his chest.

“Doctor Marshall, can you help with the last patient?” He responds with a mere noncomittal grunt. Clarke follows Miguel, she maintains her focus on this man, the nurses and interns are capable to start warming the other patients.

Jackson stays with Miguel as well, he has battled for so long to keep the man alive, he feels all of his efforts were for not, it took too long to get them here. “Doctor Griffin I did everything I could, I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. We didn’t get to them fast enough to save the first man; I didn’t want to lose another.” 

Jackson is like Clarke when it comes to death, he never deals well with losing a life, he wants to save lives, that’s why he became a paramedic, but today the weight of the loss overwhelms him, this is his first and only call of the day and he’ll lose two lives today.

Clarke hears Jackson’s devastation while continuing to work on Miguel, “Listen Jackson, hypothermia is sneaky, it slows the body so much the person appears dead, they may not be, they’re not dead until they’re warm and dead, okay? You did a great job. This man has a chance and that is only because of you.” Clarke wants to comfort Jackson, but she simply does not have the time, but he must know he is not to blame for any negative outcome that may occur. She truly believes the only reason the man has a chance at survival is because of Jackson. 

As Clarke treats Miguel she recalls her first hypothermia patient, a ten-year-old little girl. She was lifeless when she arrived. Her dark skin tinted with a blue hue. She’d been ice skating on a small pond on her family’s property, the forty-degree weather had thinned the ice. She fell through the ice; the family dog was the one to pull her from the water and drag her onto land. Clarke loved the Lassie like tale. She spent hours with that little girl, monitoring her body temperature, watching as her color slowly returned. It was one of her favorite outcomes, she knew hypothermia was a vicious condition. She will not lose a patient to it, not when she understands exactly how to treat it. 

“Replace these blankets with warm ones, what’s his body temp at?” Clarke cuts away the man’s remaining clothing, stripping away the soaking material. His body is still freezing to the touch, his muscles are rigid from prolonged, though now ceased, shivering. 

“Doctor his body temp is eighty-one point six degrees.” Nurse Ogami provides the requested body temperature.

“Okay, we need to warm him slowly, we can’t risk sending his body into shock by warming him too quickly. Keep the warming fluids going and switch the blankets every forty-five minutes. I want a temp update every time you change a blanket. If anything changes let me know. I’ll be back to check his status later.” Clarke leaves trauma one and enters trauma three. There’s no time for her to linger over this patient, while others are waiting. 

“What’s the body temperature.” Clarke demands as she continues making notes in the piecemeal electronic chart. She notes to herself to have nurses collect personal patient information. 

“We don’t have a temp.” The nurse reports with an irritated and somewhat fearful tone. Clarke glimpses up from Miguel’s chart, the nurse stands to one side of the gurney as Ugueth leans against it on the other side. The nurse’s holds a recently lubricated thermometer, while Ugueth maintains a death grip on his pants. 

“Sir, you’re suffering from hypothermia, you need treatment, for me to know how to treat you I need to know what your temperature is. There are only two ways to get an accurate reading, incubating you or using a rectal thermometer.”

“No! I’m fine, just cold, help my brother, I have things to do.”

“Sir your body is not fine, your motions are jerky, which is why you cannot stand without leaning, your speech is slurring, your brain is too cold to process fine motor skills.” Clarke stares into the man’s dark eyes, this man is not about to acquiesce to the rectal temperature. Standing in front of her is a strong-willed man, his chiseled physique conveys to her that he is an active and proud man. When a patient refuses treatment it is often because of their pride. In order to treat him, compromise will be essential. 

“Let’s do an oral temperature, if it comes back above ninety degrees, then no rectal, but if it is below ninety, then you agree to the rectal temperature.” Clarke motions for the man to sit on the bed as she wheels over the pulse ox monitor. “Please sit, let us help you.”

Ugueth stares at Clarke’s white coat, the words John’s Hopkins burns into his mind, he has one job to do, but it is essential for him to keep others from being suspicious of him. He will not risk his op, there are much bigger issues at hand, the future of his country depends on his success. He’s also aware that the only way he will be able to physically complete his op is to accept this treatment, he assumes within an hour he’ll be able to walk again without leaning. 

“Body temperature is ninety-two-point eight degrees doctor.” The nurse remains uneasy as she relays the temperature to Clarke. She’s only been working in the emergency room for a few weeks, she constantly finds herself surprised by the patients she encounters. Her small size and young age often leave her feeling woefully unprepared and incapable of managing confrontational patients. 

“Carol, can you please have someone get some patient files started on these guys. I would like to use their actual names on these charts. You did a great job in there, there will always be difficult patients, never let them scare you. They are terrified in this situation; they have lost control and are fighting against allowing someone else to take over. Keep firm and understanding with them.”

“Yes, doctor. Thank you.”

Clarke ventures across the small hallway and into trauma two, she holds out hope that Dr. Marshall or Wells has already treated the female patient. The exhaustion of the day is beginning to weigh on her, she has been going for twenty hours with limited breathing time. She much prefers the constant rush to the stop and go, those moments of downtime are often more tiring than the hustle and bustle. 

“Hello ma’am, are you starting to feel a bit warmer?” The woman’s complexion is frighteningly pale with hints of blue, which stand out in stark contrast against her blazing red hair. 

“Yes doctor. I’m very tired and worried about Tor. He was so blue, and he hasn’t spoken since he was pulled from the water. Doctor, I don’t think anyone has treated him, they just laid him on the floor of the ambulance. He needed help and they didn’t give him any. Please doctor, please help him, his daughter and wife need him, they can’t live without him. Please help him, no one else will.” The woman’s strained voice exudes sheer panic. 

“I’m sure someone is helping him, please let me treat you first, then I’ll check on him.” Clarke tries to calm the patient, to reason with her, it has no effect as tears fill the woman’s eyes. “Nurse get me a temp and change out these blankets. I’m going to make sure someone has treated, Tor, right?” 

Clarke questions to assure she is recalling the correct name. It is an odd name but strikingly familiar sounding. The woman nods her head as she wipes the tears from her face. “I’ll be right back.” Clarke attempts to comfort her patient, but her reassuring words mean nothing, as the woman’s only concern is for her friend. 

For a day with relatively few patients she feels overwhelmed by the sheer range of emotions the day has brought. Clarke scans the emergency room, she’s not sure what she is looking for but won’t deny her feeling of disappointment when she does not see Lexa’s familiar smile. She quickly shakes the idea from her thoughts, how is it that the smile of a complete stranger has become so familiar.

Clarke walks into trauma four only to find it empty, she turns back towards the nurse’s station wondering where the fourth patient had gone. From her position, Clarke sees Wells and Marshall in triage three, certainly they will know the patient’s status.

Marshall sits on a stool steadfastly focusing on stitching the deep laceration on Wells’ forearm, his efforts are messy and rushed, which will certainly leave Wells with a vividly ugly scar. This is exactly why Clarke stitched Octavia’s face, too many are careless and thoughtless about the lasting repercussions of their stitch techniques. 

“Doctor Marshall, the fourth victim, where is he? His friend is worried about him; she says no one has treated him.”

“She should be, he’s dead. Was DOA, I called it about an hour ago, as soon as he was carried into the E.R. The paramedic says he was DOA when they arrived at the scene, but he can’t make the official call, they only brought him here, instead of calling the corner because the body would have been buried in the snow. We put the body in trauma six, the morgue should be sending someone up soon to collect it.”

Clarke finds the callous response shocking. Frank Marshall was in his second year of medical school when started her first year. He had always been kind and compassionate, a man who wanted to be a doctor to serve the public, what changed him. “When did you become so callous Frank? A man just died and you’re just sitting here butchering Wells’ arm. Seriously Wells, an intern would have done a better job.”

“Fuck off Clarke, I hook you up with my boy and then you burn Finn like that. It’s messed up, he would’ve done anything for you and you just pushed him aside when he needed you the most. You’re a manipulative bitch, he gave up his career, his future for you, and you broke him.”

Clarke stands there absolutely stunned by Frank’s tirade, she can’t believe what she is hearing; what the hell story had Finn spun to Frank to turn his behavior towards her to such vile resentment. She now realizes his cold response about the patient is not reflective of his feelings about the patient, but about his feeling for her. No response comes to his cruel verbal lashing, she stands speechless, hot tears burning at her eyes. 

As Frank clips the final stitch in Wells’ arm, Wells balls up his right hand into a fist and swings his arm, his fist connects squarely against Frank’s jaw. The force of the punch sends the man sprawling across the room, he’s out cold.

“Oh shit, Wells, thank you, but you can get in trouble for this.” As stunned as Frank’s words had left her, it does not compare to her shock of seeing Wells send the man flying. She’s known Wells since she was young, he has always been such a pacifist, the idea of him resorting to violence is not consistent with the person she grew up with, but she also loves it.

“I’ll have Terry help me get him into a bed, and I’ll check him for a concussion, but I swear to God if Frank wakes up with the same fucked up attitude, I’ll knock him out again. Clarke, Finn was a self-destructive, obsessive, control freak, who essentially stalked you. His behavior, his actions are not your fault. You deserve to be happy and to be in a healthy relationship. Finn is not that Clarke. Earlier today I finally saw you smile in a way I haven’t seen since your father died; you deserve to be with someone who makes you smile like that every day.”

Wells words are coated in sincerity, Clarke feels a pain of guilt, she’s been so unfair to him since her father died, Wells is a good man. “Thank you Wells.” Her eyes linger on the floor uncertain of what to say next, an apology nor an “I’ll do better,” are sufficient or necessary, Wells has always been her best friend and has never expected more from her. He’s always just wanted her friendship. “I need to go check on the patients.”

Wells smiles at Clarke, the intent behind her words is obvious to him, it’s typical Clarke. “I’ll get Frank into a bed and get some ice on his jaw, then I’ll come help.”

“Thanks Wells, for everything.” It’s a simple thank you but to Wells it is everything he has ever wanted to hear. Since the night he’d told Clarke the truth about her father’s death, she had distanced herself from him, finally he feels like the distance between them is closing. Perhaps soon he’ll have his best friend back. 

Clarke walks towards trauma two, to the red-headed woman eagerly awaiting to her about her friend. Clarks hates delivering news like this. The weight of the looming conversation slows her pace. Ideas, words race through her mind, as she approaches the door, Nurse Michelle steps out of the room. 

“Doctor Griffin, I’ve updated the patient’s chart. Her body temp is ninety degrees; her heart rate is up to sixty beats per minutes. I think she’s keen to hear about her friend. Her name is Shalene, she works for her friend, she calls him Tor. She asked for a phone to call her wife, she doesn’t want her to worry, apparently she just jumped in the boat and went, no one else knows what happened.”

Clarke has always appreciated the level of detail Michelle provides. Michelle’s details reveal her personal connection to each person she helps and provides Clarke with tidbits of information about her patients that no patient file could ever elucidate. Clarke swallows the lump in her throat, she is about to devast this kind woman.

“Thank you, Michelle, please stay with me to talk to the patient.”

Michelle’s dark hand grasps Clarke’s arm, she’s worked with Clarke long enough to know why Clarke asks her to stay. 

Clarke steps into the trauma room, hopeful blue eyes met hers, she watches as the hope transitions to despair, Clarke’s body language told the woman the one thing she does not want to hear.

“Shalene, when the paramedics arrived at the waterfront Tor was already gone. There was nothing they could do. His body had been exposed to the cold for too long, when he arrived in the emergency room, Dr. Marshall confirmed Tor’s vitals were not present and called time of death at 12:34 a.m. Shalene, you did everything you could to give Tor the best chance to survive, unfortunately, his body could not handle the exposure.” Clarke reaches out to console the woman who weeps uncontrollably. “Someone will be here soon to take his body; do you want to see him before they take him?”

Clarke’s eyes scan the freckled pale face, tears still streaming, her heart aches for this woman, as she’s all too familiar with the pain of losing someone, a pain that still haunts her. 

“Yes……I……would……. like……... that.” Shalene replies through her continued sobbing.

Clarke folds back the warming blanket and helps the woman stand. As Shalene’s knees buckle Clarke motions to Michelle for a wheelchair. With Clarke’s assistance, Shalene sits in the wheelchair, her muscles shake, Clarke feels the woman’s pulse race as she loosens her grip on the thin wrist. Clarke is not sure if the woman’s reactions are from her hypothermia or from the emotional situation, likely a little of both. Clarke wheels the frail woman towards trauma six, the wheelchair shakes in Clarke’s grasp from Shalene’s uncontrollable sobs.

Clarke stops the wheelchair next to the hospital bed in trauma six, the form of the man is concealed beneath a white sheet, Shalene slips her hand beneath the sheet and grabs hold of Tor’s lifeless hand. “He’s so cold,” is all the woman musters. 

Clarke pulls back the sheet, folding it down onto the man’s chest. As she glances back at the face she’d just uncovered her stomach sinks. She knows this man. His name had sounded familiar because she has treated his daughter countless times in the past. She recalls Reese’s halfcocked smile, the one she reserved for her father. She can hear the young girl’s carefree laugh, the sarcastic responses. She knows this family. Reese suffers from Childhood Interstitial Lung Disease; her chronic illness results in her frequenting the hospital. She was here only three days ago with acute bronchitis. Clarke swallows the choking lump in her throat and pushes back the tears that are once again burning at her eyes. 

“I just don’t understand doctor, Tor was in the water no longer than the other man, and yet he died before he even had a chance. I don’t understand how they are different?”

“Everyone reacts differently to hypothermia; his body just wasn’t able to fight the cold.” Clarke explains as she looks at the man, something does seem out of place to her. “I’ll make sure an autopsy is performed; it may provide more answers.” The shadow of a gangly man standing outside the trauma room door distracts Clarke, the morgue attendant has finally arrived to collect Tor’s body. “Shalene, they’re here to take Tor, I’ll have Michelle stay with you, you let them know when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Doctor Griffin.” Clarke only offers a gentle smile. Michelle reaches out and squeezes Clarke’s arm an offering of comfort, Michelle understands how hard death is for Clarke. 

Clarke steps out of the room and slides the door shut. “Give her some time Jasper, and when you get him down to the morgue have Doctor Ichs perform an autopsy as soon as possible. The suspected cause of death is hypothermia, but I’m not certain about that.”

“Sure thing, Clarke.” Jasper is a goofy kid, but Clarke appreciates his lack of regards for formalities, she really does not like being called Doctor Griffin.

As Clarke turns from Jasper, she witnesses Bellamy measuring up a young intern. For Bellamy, the female staff at Hopkins is grade A prey.

Bellamy leans over the admissions desk overtly flirting with Avery, a mousy faced intern. She twists her fingers through her hair and bats her eye lashes as Bellamy replays the story of his part in the courageous rescue of the hypothermia-stricken patients. He unravels the tale of his precision driving, how he barreled through the snow packed streets laughing in the face of the treacherous storm. Avery clings to his every word, his courage fascinates her, and his physique sparks her interest. 

“So, I guess we’ll be stuck here for a while.” Bellamy draws out his words as his eyes follow along the curves of the young woman.

“Yeah, this storm sure is bad. I wonder how long we’ll be stuck here.” Avery smirks as she stares slightly below Bellamy’s belt buckle.

“It’ll be long enough.” Bellamy replies suggestively as he reaches out his hand and brushes it against Avery’s face, tucking a lock of loose hair behind her ear. 

The sight is absolutely nauseating, Clarke approaches in an attempt to save this intern from making the same mistake of so many others, “Nice to see you Detective Blake, how’s Nicole, I mean Megan, or wait is it Gina now, there’s been so many, I struggle to keep track.”

Clarke’s words pull Avery from Bellamy’s trance, “oh, I just remembered I need to go check on a patient.” The young intern walks away, turning briefly to send Bellamy a flirtatious wink. 

Clarke has no impact on Avery’s opinion of Bellamy, but that does not prevent him from playfully questioning Clarke’s words, “Not cool Clarke, I don’t mess with your game, why do you need to interfere with mine?”

“One, you could never, and I mean never, mess with my game, which reminds me you still owe fifty bucks, and two, I’ve had to treat four women for crabs after they slept with you, please tell me you’ve fixed that problem.”

“Hey, she didn’t count, she was a lesbian, I had no chance, and that was two years ago, I’d definitely beat you now. Seriously pick any girl, and I bet I sleep with her before she even gives you the time of day, double or nothing. As for the crabs, could you not talk about that so loudly and one of those women gave it to me first, and yes the issue has been resolved.”

“Good to hear. So, any woman, my choice?”

“Yeah, but you can’t pick someone you know is a lesbian.”

“You’re on.” Making bets with Bellamy is just the distraction she needs. 

“Hey, have you seen my sister? She hadn’t reported back to the station before I left.”

The answer is rather matter of fact but her loyalty, her friendship to Octavia requires her to carefully respond to Bellamy. He always overreacts when it comes to Octavia. “She’s still here, there was an incident and Indra needed her to stick around. Plus, with the storm, it seemed like the safer alternative.” Clarke opts for a selective truth.

“Oh, well where’s the guy she was supposed to arrest, you’re not keeping him in that tiny holding room until the storm passes, are you?”

Clarke rubs the back of her neck pondering her next response, “No, he’s not in the holding room.” Keep it simple is the only thought that comes to mind.

“So where’s Octavia?”

“Not entirely sure, Indra has her doing something.”

“Well Indra is not her boss. Would you page her? I need to update our status with the station, but I need to actually know her status before I can give an update.”

“Sure” Clarke tries to conceive a way to warn Octavia about what she’ll be walking into; hopefully she’s found Moore and her service weapon by now. 

“Officer Blake to the Emergency Room, Octavia Blake to the Emergency Room.” 

Perhaps using the two differing names in the page will alert Octavia of her brother’s presence. As it’s the only idea that comes to Clarke.


	8. Burdened

“Officer Blake to the Emergency Room, Octavia Blake to the Emergency Room.” The resounding page pulls Lexa from her meditating state. “Fuck.” Lexa ‘s heart races as her mind swarms with possibilities. “Fuck, Blake’s looking for Moore, Moore wants Clarke, she’s in the Emergency Room, Blake is being paged to the Emergency Room, Moore must be in the Emergency Room. He’s going to hurt Clarke.” The thoughts continue to play over and over again in her mind. 

“Monty, come in. Monty, I need a status report on the E.R. Monty, where the fuck are you?” 

“Christ Lexa, why the fuck are you yelling?”

“Not now Raven, when did you last hear from Monty?”

“Not since we all talked, the com channels are open you would’ve heard us. He probably just went to the bathroom.”

Lexa sprints through the halls, the map of the hospital plays through her mind as she struggles to focus, all of the months of preparation and she’s turned around in a hospital that feels more like a maze then a functional building. “I need Monty, damnit. Monty come in.”

Finally, an exasperated Lexa recognizes the location of the elevators, the Emergency Room is down the hall to her left, as is a familiar woman wearing a police uniform. While the woman’s casual walk should calm Lexa, it only acts to infuriate her. There’s an armed man on the loose and this woman is to blame, how is she so cavalier about responding to a page. Lexa harnesses her energy and slows her pace to match Octavia’s. For a moment she considers pulling her weapon before entering the Emergency Room department, but ultimately decides against it. 

“O, what happened to your face?” Bellamy darts to his sister upon seeing her bruised and stitched face

“I’m fine Bellamy” Octavia side glances Clarke, annoyance thoroughly coating her glare. Clarke mouths a wary apology before Octavia’s attention diverts back to her brother. 

Bellamy takes Octavia’s face in his hands and turns her head back and forth examining her for any additional injuries. “Sixteen stitches, shit O, what the fuck happened?”

Before Octavia responds Indra, along with Kane, interrupts the conversation, with Lexa standing close behind them. “We need to talk, follow me.” Once again Indra does not ask, she commands.

“Indra, I need to speak with my sister, she’s my responsibility and you’re not our boss.” While Bellamy has appreciation and respect for Indra, his ego tends to turn him into a bit of an ass. 

Indra steps up to Bellamy nearly pressing her chest into his as she stares at him with fire in her eyes, “Follow me, now!” She turns from him and walks in the direction of the conference room, without hesitation Octavia follows. Bellamy attempts to stand in defiance but it is only brief, within seconds he tucks his tail between his legs and follows as ordered, defeat defining his posture.

“You too Lexa.” Indra calls back over her shoulder.

Clarke’s spirits had lifted when she first noticed Lexa behind Octavia, but the feeling is fleeting and has all but disappeared when Indra summons Lexa. Another reminder to Clarke of how Lexa had been like Finn, how she had searched through her things and asked her to ignore her patients.

Lexa glances over to Clarke hoping to find her anger had subsided, instead she is greeted with a stern and unreadable look, with no signs of encouragement, she too turns and follows after Indra; however, unlike Bellamy, she holds her head high, even as feelings of defeat course through her.

While everyone is in this covert meeting Clarke finds herself, once again, standing alone. Rather than wallowing in self-pity, something she refuses to do, she utilizes this time to check in on her patients. Both men’s body temperatures are rising, slowly but an increase is all she needs to see. She notes their charts and goes to check on Shalene. Rather than walking into trauma two, Clarke walked towards trauma six upon seeing Jasper leaning against the wall. 

“Jasper, thank you for giving her so much time. I’ll see if I can get her back to her room.”

“Thanks Clarke, I didn’t want to upset her, I don’t do well with crying women.”

“This we all know, all too well, remember the fiasco at the Christmas Party with Maya, you were a bumbling mess, which was hilarious. This girl is crying because she said yes to marrying you and you look to everyone else to help you make the tears stop.”

“That was not my finest moment.”

Clarke smiles at Jasper while composing herself to speak with Shalene. She tiptoes into the room to find Shalene with tear stain streaked cheeks, holding up Michelle’s phone, talking into it. Michelle patiently waits from the chair next to Shalene, moving over to Clarke when she enters the room.

“Her body temp is up to ninety-six degrees; she’s rebounding quite nicely. I let her use my phone to FaceTime her wife, Karyn. They are neighbors to the Lemkins. She wanted to tell Suzanne and Reese about Tor, she wants to save them from their continued worry. I hope you don’t mind that I let her.”

“Thank you, Michelle.” Clarke assures Michelle she does not mind in a hushed voice.

“Karyn, the doctor who saved me is back. I’ll see you as soon as you can get here my love.” Shalene mumbles off her good-byes to her wife and returns Michelle’s phone, “thank you.” 

“Shalene you’re looking much better. I would like you to get some sleep though, it’s almost three in the morning. Are you okay if we go back to your room and let Jasper take Tor, would that be okay?” Clarke is gentle and personable with Shalene, the woman has already been through so much this evening. 

Fresh tears grace Shalene’s cheeks as she lifts Tor’s lifeless hand to her lips, “good-bye my friend. I will miss you. Karyn and I will take care of Suzanne and Reese, I promise.” She seals her promise with a soft kiss to the back of Tor’s hand. 

Hearing Reese’s name reminds Clarke of the young girl with a simple barrette tucking her hair back. Her heart aches for Reese, the pain of losing a father still plagues Clarke she cannot imagine the pain of losing a father so young. Michelle pushes Shalene’s wheelchair from the room with Clarke following closely behind. She gives Jasper a passing glance as she walks back towards the nurse’s station. 

“Doctor Griffin, we’ll get the autopsy started as soon as possible. Doctor Ichs told me to let him sleep until after eight so it’ll be after that before I have any details for you.” Clarke really wishes Jasper would not yell such details across the emergency room as she does not need Shalene hearing them and becoming even more upset. 

In trauma three, Ugueth Urbina tries to maintain his composure and heart rate, an autopsy will certainly reveal the fact that the Captain had drowned, he’d much rather the doctors continue to think he’d died of hypothermia. He must do something to stop his cover from being destroyed. 

While Clarke checks on her patients, Harper and Lincoln patiently wait in the conference room for Indra to return. When Indra walks in the two straighten their stance, standing at a rigid attention. The small group file into the conference room, each moving to a different part of the room. Octavia stays near Indra, while Bellamy tries to put as much space as possible between himself and the demanding woman. Lincoln cautiously scans Octavia’s face, obviously noticing her injury. She welcomes his look of concern with a noncommittal smile, another person she will need to rehash the story of her incompetence to later. 

“I’ve spoken with Chief Jaha, he’s granted me the use of any officers in my hospital to help secure and protect the patients and staff of this hospital. Quite literally, I am your boss now” Indra asserts herself while maintaining eye contact with Bellamy until he looks away in embarrassment. 

“Also joining our group is Lexa, she’s been assigned here to help and that is all you need to know about her.” Indra pauses only momentarily expecting some form of objection or questioning, instead her pause is thankfully greeted with continued silence. 

“Beyond the general requirements of keeping our patients safe, we have two additional pressing matters. First, we have a diplomatic delegate as a patient,” seeing mouths open to ask questions, Indra raises her hand to promote the continuation of silence, “who he is and his business in this country are of no concern to us. We recently moved him to a secure floor and have constant surveillance on him. You will all rotate shifts of guarding this particular floor. For now, it will rotate between Lincoln and Harper, alternating every six hours. When not guarding this particular floor, you will be walking the halls of this hospital. I know we are tired; we need sleep but until we resolve our second issue, sleep will not be allowed. This morning a man accosted Doctor Griffin. Since then he attacked Officer Blake.” Both Bellamy’s and Lincoln’s heads whip to look at Octavia, whose eye are now permanently transfixed on the floor. Lincoln’s face is etched with concern, while Bellamy’s reflects an archaic sense of duty.

Indra ignores the disruptive movements, continuing, “When Officer Blake was attacked, her service weapon was stolen.” Octavia’s cheeks pink with embarrassment, though she is grateful for Indra’s matter-of-fact tone and even though there is no accusing or disappointment, she can’t help but feel like she failed in the worst way imaginable. 

“We have searched the area of the attack and have been searching the hospital, as of now we have not been able to find even a trace of this man. He may have left this building, he may still be here hiding, at this time we do not know. What we do know is some of the hospital’s security cameras have been taken out and since this man went after Doctor Griffin and Officer Blake there’s reason to believe he may attack again.” 

Indra transitions from maintaining eye contact with everyone to focusing exclusively on Octavia and Bellamy, “Detective, Officer I want you two to find this man, Lexa you will stay with Doctor Griffin and keep her safe. If any of you need to report anything, we’ll use the following codes; code name Guardian for the diplomat, and code name Alcatraz for Moore, the escapee. Any questions?”

Bellamy begins to speak only to be cut off by Kane, “Detective Blake that was more of a rhetorical request. I just want to say I appreciate all of your assistance, remember our first priority is our patients. Everyone is stuck here, the last thing we need is to cause a panic throughout the hospital. So, no pulling guns on innocent people,” Kane fixates on Lexa with a an all too knowing look, “we cannot have the patients or staff knowing about Moore, the only other people who know are doctors Jaha and Griffin, let’s keep it that way. Here are hospital radios, keep these with you at all times and keep them on secure channel six, any updates you give will be through these radios, no more hospital wide pages.” Kane hands a radio to Bellamy, Octavia, and Lexa. As Lexa reaches for her radio, she makes momentarily eye contact with Bellamy, his only thought is a wishful hope that Clarke will choose this woman for their little bet. 

“Dismissed.” Indra’s final words are firm, she departs from the room and turns off the lights, there’s no mistaking that the meeting is over.

Clarke watches as Indra marches out of the conference room leaving everyone else in the dark. Slowly the crowd trickles out of the darkened conference room, Harper and Lincoln exit turning left and head towards the elevators. Next comes Kane and Octavia, it appears Kane is trying to comfort or reassure her. Next Bellamy exits, his presence is stiff but slackens as he approaches Clarke.

“Hey Clarke, just heard you were attacked this morning, and that you conveniently forgot to tell me my sister was also attacked, and you were the one to stitch up her face.”

“We’re both fine Bellamy. Now about this bet.”

“Oh, you’re ready to make your choice I see, if permissible, may I make a suggestion.”

Clarke is open to suggestions, after all she has the final say so what harm could come of allowing him the perception of a choice. “Sure Bell, what’s your suggestion.”

Bellamy offers a menacing smile as he scans the area looking for the woman who he can confirm, with absolute certainty, will be his next conquest.

Lexa exists the conference room, remaining a short distance from where Kane and Octavia stand discussing the Moore issue, Octavia apologizing over and over again, while Kane continues to try and reassure her that the incident is not her fault.

“Alright Clarke let’s keep this super simple, a kiss, first one to get a kiss from Lexa, wins,” As Bellamy divulges the details of his suggestion to Clarke, he fixates on Lexa like she is nothing more than prey to him. 

Clarke’s stomach drops at the suggestion, she’s disgusted by the mere idea of using Lexa in such a way and is even more disturbed by the insatiable expression coating Bellamy’s face. It’s almost like she can see him salivating at the opportunity to pursue Lexa. “You know what Bell, that may be the worst suggestion you’ve ever made. Here’s the deal, forget the bet, you win, keep the fifty you owed me, consider us even.”

A dejected Bellamy mocks offense, “Clarke, come on it is a great suggestion, though it would have been too easy for you anyways, since she’s now assigned to guard you, but whatever, your loss my gain. Fifty bucks richer.”

“That’s not how money works Bell, but whatever you say.” She ignores the assigned to guard you part, regardless of how Bellamy eggs her on to choose Lexa, she will not allow her to be subjected to some stupid bet, she deserves better than that, even if she had betrayed Clarke’s trust. Clarke’s mind begins to race, she needs to give Lexa a chance to explain herself, maybe it was a simple misunderstanding, maybe there’s more to it. There’s too much to consider, she needs an escape, she needs air, too much has happened too fast, she needs to find her center.

She walks towards the huddled Octavia and Kane, there’s only one release available to her and only one person can grant her that, “Kane, can I have a minute?”

“What can I do for you Clarke?”

“May I have the key to the Cooley Center, I really need to clear my head.”

“Clarke, there’s a storm outside it’s not safe.”

“Please Kane, I’ll take someone with me and if the weather is too much we’ll turn back.”

Kane pulls a mass of keys from his pocket and slowly twists free a key from the jumbled ring, handing the key to Clarke he offers his condition to allowing her the key, “Lexa will accompany you, agreed?”

How is it that a woman she’s never seen before in the hospital has become known so quickly to every important person in the hospital? Clarke’s bewilderment delays her response to Kane as she scans his face for clues that do not exist, “Agreed.” 

Clarke wishes to give Lexa a chance to explain and she figures there’s no better place or time. At worst she’ll become angrier giving her more energy to run, at best she’ll hear a reasonable justification and will no longer be angry. Either way Lexa deserves a chance to explain things.

“Hey Lexa, I’m going to go over to the Cooley Center I need to run, would you mind accompanying me?” Clarke’s voice is kind and soft, unlike the previous tone that had greeted Lexa. 

“Yes doctor.” Lexa puts up a wall to distance herself from her feelings, protecting Clarke is her assignment and she will not let her feelings get in the way. 

An uncomfortable tension lingers over the two women as they slowly make their way through winding hallways, they turn left, then right, then walk for several minutes, not a word is spoken. Lexa remaining steadfast on staying focused on her task at hand and Clarke uncertain on how to brooch an apology that she’s not convinced is owed. 

As they approach the Outpatient Center doors the intensity of the storm becomes remarkably obvious. Snow piles up against the door, it must be at least a foot and a half deep, the hollowing of the wind echoes in the open space, while the cold air leaks in through the sealed entryway.   
Clarke reaches up to unfasten the latch on one of the motion sensor controlled doors, “Lexa, would you mind helping me push this open.”

“Of course, doctor Griffin.”

Clarke ignores the cold response, no longer certain that it is the storm alone causing the icy temperature. The two work together, effortlessly maneuvering around each other as necessary to pry and push the door open. As the door finally gives way, snow piles inside, leaving quite the mess behind. 

“Kane, there’s a bit of snow on the floor of the Outpatient Center near the exit door, if you could have someone bring a mop and bucket here, I’ll make sure to clean up this mess.”

“Lexa, this channel is for emergencies only, not for matters of housekeeping.” Indra snaps in response, Lexa instantly regrets trying to be responsible.

“Thank you, Lexa, I’ll make sure we have that taken care of, after all a slip hazard can be quite the liability.”

Clarke chuckles to herself, Kane always tries to be the peacemaker. While she takes a bit of joy in the bickering, she can’t help the pang of hurt that pulls at her from Lexa’s deceit, there is certainly more to this woman than she has led on to.

Together they step into the storm, wind whips at their faces as snow quickly coats their hair and clothing. While the Cooley Center is only about sixty yards from the Outpatient Center, Clarke is already doubting the intelligence of her decision. She glances over to Lexa to see if the other woman expresses regret at agreeing to accompany her, rather than regret she witnesses unwavering determination. Clarke resolves her willpower, if Lexa can do this, so can she. 

They reach the Cooley Center a few minutes later, Clarke’s hand aggressively shakes as she shivers while trying to place the key into the lock. Lexa gently places her hand over Clarke’s to help her steady, her hand is warm and inviting, Clarke wonders what it would be like to hold this woman’s hand. How it would feel to have that warmth embrace her longer than it takes to unlock a door. 

Once again snow piles into the building when they push the door open, “Lexa, you should probably let Kane know that we need a mop.” Clarke nudges Lexa in the arm as she teases her about the previous encounter. 

Lexa does not take the bait, she does not soften, “I have this doctor Griffin.”

Clarke can’t help but feel her heart sink a bit, she’s disappointed that she had hurt this woman’s feelings, yet she also feels a bit irritated, it was Lexa who betrayed her, not the other way around, why the hell is she getting the cold shoulder. Now’s not the time, she must run, running will help her figure out her next step. 

The two ascend the stairs to the second floor where the indoor track follows the boundary of the room. Clarke dries her shoes, to the best of her ability, on the gym floor carpet before stepping onto the track, ever since her father died, she has used running as a method to clear her mind. Admittedly, it’s more of an avoidance tactic then a coping method. 

Clarke steps onto the track and begins her run, Lexa watches as Clarke runs away from her, she observes how Clarke’s blonde ponytail bounces back and forth as she runs. Lexa becomes transfixed on the woman, Clarke rounds the bend, her path trajectory is now aimed directly at Lexa. Against her will, Lexa’s eyes travel from Clarke’s face to her ample chest, she focuses on their rhymical bouncing, up down up down, what is wrong with her. Clarke smirks at Lexa as she gets a bit closer, fuck, she’s been caught. Lexa shakes the image from her head and turns her back to Clarke, choosing instead to focus on the entryway. 

While Clarke runs around and round, Ugueth Urbina begins to hatch his plan to protect his cover. He takes note of the direction the tall lanky boy went and listens intently for the sound of an elevator; the silence of the emergency room is very helpful in revealing the relevant sounds. Ugueth waits for the crowds to clear before he quietly stands from the bed, he closes the valve for the I.V. and detaches it from the needle in his hand. 

After double-checking the area is clear he leaves his room and heads for the elevators, morgues are always in the basement he thinks to himself. The elevator doors chime, as the door glides open a man steps from the elevator, fuck, how will he explain himself to this man in a whitecoat. To Ugueth’s great relief the man says nothing as he tightly exists the elevator staying hugged against the wall. Ugueth enters the elevator and presses the floor button for the basement, an odd black film coats his finger. He tries to wipe the substance onto his hospital gown but has little success, the substance is quite resilient. 

The elevator ride ends with a jolt as it comes to a stop. The doors open and reveal a darkened silent hallway, a few drips of blood stain the floor, the wheels of a gurney have smeared the blood telling Ugueth that the gurney has gone to the left. He follows the smears of blood until the trail runs out, as he walks the hall, he hears what sounds like muffled screams, he ignores the sounds and continues his search as certainly a lifeless body would not be screaming. 

At the end of the hallway sits the area he’s been searching for, he slowly approaches the heavy black doors, pushing one gently open, peaking inside, he sees no one. He steps into the room continuously scanning it for the presence of anyone living. He creeps along, where is this Doctor Ichs, where is the body of the captain, where is that skinny boy?

Ugueth comes upon another set of doors, these are equipped with a window, inside the room is the boy and the captain’s body, in the far corner a man lays sleeping on a gurney, this must be Doctor Ichs. Ugueth continues to observe the situation, the boy’s back it to the door as he prepares the body for an autopsy, undressing the body and placing drapes over it, his headphones drowning out the sounds of the room. 

Ugueth slips into the room and finds a heavy specimen bin. He sneaks up behind the boy and raises the specimen bin high into the air, with a swift motion he bludgeons the boy in the head with the bin. Blood splatters across the room and the boy crumbles to the ground, Ugueth drops the bin to the ground and moves on to the sleeping Doctor Ichs. 

He places his hand firmly over the man’s mouth and pinches his nose closed with his other hand. He holds strong and pulls back as the man begins to struggle for air. Doctor Ichs eyes jolt open starring into Ugueth’s cold eyes. He brings his hands up to the man’s hands, clawing for a grip, black gunk fills the areas under his fingernails. He kicks his feet, thrashes back and forth, struggling to find air, he panics as air becomes a forgotten privilege, his eyes widen, and his body slackens. Once again Ugueth has denied a man air, stealing his breath, stealing another life. 

Ugueth straightens the doctor’s body and pulls the sheets back over him, he closes the doctor’s eyes, from a distance it will look like nothing more than a sleeping man. He looks to the boy crumpled up on the floor, blood pooling beneath him as it seeps from the gash in his head. There is no cleaning his mess, fuck it, the doctor posed the greatest threat to his cover and he has been dealt with. 

He leaves the morgue his hospital gown now stained with blood; he’ll need to find a new one before returning to the emergency room. As he ventures back towards the elevators, he smells the strong scent of bleach, a laundry room must be near. He moves in the direction the scent seems to be coming from, a small sign tells him he’s in the right area, Laundry, graces the door to the room to his left. He walks into the laundry area, large machines line the walls, in the corner of the room is another door, a dim light illuminates from beneath it. Quietly, he navigates the room to find a new gown while not disturbing whomever may be in the dimly lit room. Within a minute or so Ugueth finds the hospital gowns and replaces he stained gown with a freshly washed one, hopefully the smell will not deceive him. 

While he changes his gown, he hears a faint sound coming from the dimly lit room, he must hurry. Ugueth tosses the bloodied gown into the corner of the room as he walks out into the hallway. He quickly finds his way back to the elevators. The elevator immediately chimes, no one had called for the elevator since he came down here. He steps into the elevator, time to return to the emergency room. Once again, the elevator chimes and jerks to a stop as it arrives to its designated floor. Ugueth creeps from the elevator and heads back towards his room. He moves silently through the department; without issue he makes his way back to his room. He sits on the bed and reconnects the I.V. to his hand, he then notices a bit of blood coating his wrist. He walks to the small sink in the room and removes the remaining traces of his adventure in the morgue, everything except a bit of black tacky substance. 

As Ugueth settles back into his bed, his cover sufficiently protected, Clarke finishes her thirty-minute run. She steps from the track towards Lexa, whose back she’s been staring at for the last twenty-eight minutes. 

“Lexa, I’m ready to go if you are?”

“Yes, Doctor Griffin.”

The two walk down the stairs in silence, Clarke following behind Lexa. With each step Clarke’s anger rises, she feels mistreated, she had done nothing wrong and yet, Lexa is punishing her for her own betrayal. 

As they reach the first floor Clarke’s frustration reaches its apex, she demands answers. “Lexa, what the fuck is going on? Why are you so damn cold to me? What the fuck did I do to you? You went through my things, you’re keeping things from me, and when I get upset about it, you treat me poorly.”

Lexa backs up as Clarke continues her march forward demanding answers to some questions that she really can’t answer. “Clarke, I … I’m sorry. It’s just not that simple.” Lexa’s back hits up against the check-in counter.

“It is that simple Lexa. All day you’ve just been playing me, deceiving me. Here I was thinking maybe, I dunno, something but really you’re just lying to me, was anything you said or did real?”

Lexa doesn’t know how to respond, she had kept some secrets from Clarke, but everything else, it was her, it was real, she had let her guard down. Lexa’s heart pounds, she becomes lost in Clarke’s deep blue eyes, she steps up to her, their eyes flickering back and forth. Fuck it, Lexa steps even closer and gently places her lips to Clarke’s. Clarke welcomes the soft kiss and encourages its continuance, for a brief moment they become lost in the tenderness of the kiss. 

While the kiss is incredible, Clarke stops it before it progresses longer, she still needs answers. Lexa must be honest with her; she will not be deceived again. “I’m sorry, I just, I can’t do this. I need you to explain yourself Lexa.”

“Clarke, I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. I will tell you all that I can though. Let’s get back to the hospital first.”

“Okay.” Clarke is not sure if what Lexa is about to tell her will be sufficient or not, but she is willing to give her a chance to explain. 

Lexa opens the door to the Cooley Center, only to be greeted with freezing wind, it must be colder now then it was thirty minutes ago. She holds the door slightly ajar so Clarke can squeeze out but without letting a bunch of snow pile in. The snow is at least a half a foot deeper now then it was when they walked over. Their footprints had essentially been buried, though a faint, hastily made trail seems to still exist. Though Lexa finds its existence a bit puzzling. 

The sixty yard walk back to the Outpatient Center door is painfully slow, Clarke regrets this idea, if only she and Lexa could have remained in the Cooley Center, but her patients are priority one. They reach the Outpatient Center door and work quickly to pry it open, just inside the door a frustrated environmental specialist mops up the melting snow. They elect to open the door much less this time and squeeze through the narrow opening. This time only a bit of snow follows them inside. Clarke and Lexa brush the collected snow from their clothes as they step inside the door. 

“Ma’am, let me finish cleaning this up, it is my fault you should not be tasked with cleaning it up.” Lexa requests the small woman pass the mop to her. 

“It’s nearly finished now, why don’t you two head back to where you belong while I clean this up, but don’t forget to lock the door so more of ya’all don’t come traipsing through. There’s been enough of you today.”

“Yes ma’am.” Lexa turns back and locks the sliding door. “My apologies again.”

A begrudged grunt is the only reply she receives to her apology. Once they are a safe distance from the wintery mess they created and the exceptionally displeased hospital employee, Lexa decides to explain all she can to Clarke.

“Clarke, first I want you to know I understand, completely, your frustrations. Let me begin with telling you how I know some of the things I know. Right after we heard about Officer Blake, while you were tending to her, you’re right. I did not go just for coffee and the restroom; I went to the parking garage to see if I could find her firearm or any hints to where Moore had gone. I did not find her firearm nor any traces of Moore, what I did find was that some of the cameras had a black tacky substance on them, making them useless. I did let Indra know about this. When I heard you being paged to the emergency room I was worried about your safety. I was concerned that Moore may be there and that, that was why you were being paged. I did not mean to make you feel like your patients were not important or that I wanted you to neglect them. I only wanted to make sure the area was safe for you. As to your possessions, when I arrived in the emergency room, you were nowhere to be found and I was concerned. I went to the locker room to see if you were there. When I walked in, I noticed the black substance that is on the cameras was also on some of the lockers and was on your bag. I checked the bag, not knowing, at first, that it was yours, I checked it to verify there was nothing threatening inside it. Once I verified it was your bag, I stopped searching it, but noted the black substance on your phone. Next I searched the shower area to make sure no one was in there waiting to attack you. When I went into that area there was a message written in the steamed mirror, ‘You’re Mine.’ This message really made me concerned and confirmed to me that someone is after you and that someone needs to have your back. Clarke, I never meant to betray or deceive you.”

Clarke sees the sincerity in Lexa’s eyes, she has no reason to doubt anything she has said to her. “I appreciate that Lexa, and I believe you, but you still haven’t told me anything about you.”

“I know Clarke. Please know I want to tell you everything, but I can’t right now. If and when it becomes safe for me to tell you more, I promise you I will tell you all that I can, right now I need you to know, and accept that I’ve told you everything I possibly can.”

“Honestly Lexa, I don’t know why but I do believe you and I’m willing to wait, but I need you to promise me that you won’t keep hiding things going on in the hospital that relates to me from me. Those things I deserve to know.”

“I promise that to you Clarke, I promise to not burden you with the unknown any longer.”

Clarke feels a sense of relief wash over her, this conversation with Lexa has been far more productive then spending thirty minutes running in circles. 

“Lexa, it’s Monty, Lexa are you there, it’s urgent I need you to respond immediately!”

Fuck, how is she going to explain this to Clarke.

**Author's Note:**

> TYIA for feedback, comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I look forward to taking you on this adventure to discover "Where Evil Hides."


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